UC-NRLF 


Efll 


itiftl 


LI13RAK  V 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA. 


OF* 


Mrs.  SARAH  P.  WALSWORTH. 

Received  October,  1894. 
Accessions  No.  .      Class  M). 


^/a 

A   WOMAN'S 


FIRST  IMPRESSIONS  OF  EUROPE. 


WAYSIDE   SKETCHES 


MADE  DURING  A  SHORT  TOUR  IN  THE  YEAR  1863. 


BY    MRS.    E.    A.    FORBES. 




NEW   YORK: 
DERBY    & 

1865. 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1865. 
BY  DERBY  &  MILLER, 

In  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  United  States,  for  the 
Northern  District  of  New  York. 


THOMAS,  TYPOGRAPHER, 
BUFFALO. 


TO 


.  and  $Rrs.>imr    Wi. 


THE   DEAR   FRIENDS, 

UNDER    WHOSE     PROTECTION     LIFELONG     DREAMS     HAVE     BECOME 

REALITIES,     THESE     WAYSIDE      SKETCHES      OF      SCENES 

WHICH     WE     HATE      ENJOYED     TOGETHER, 

ARE    AFFECTIONATELY   INSCRIBED. 


PREFACE. 


THE  writer  of  the  following  sketches  cannot  send 
them  forth  from  their  original  domestic  destination  to 
the  impertinence  of  print,  without  reminding  any 
who  may  honor  them  with  their  notice,  that  an  egot 
ism  in  incident  and  a  dogmatism  in  criticism,  which 
would  be  insufferable,  if  intended  for  the  public  eye, 
are  simply  the  shortest  and  easiest  mode  of  recording 
one's  personal  impressions  in  a  private  journal. 

To  disentangle  these  elements  from  what  remains, 
would  prove  a  task  altogether  disproportionate  to  the 
value  of  the  work;  it  is  therefore  commended  to 
friendly  indulgence,  with  an  earnest  disclaimer  of 
these  two  worst  vices  of  the  literature  of  travel. 


ERRATA. 

Page    32,  line  15,  for  "for"  read  to. 
Page  148,  line  10,  for  "Donneker"  read  Danneker. 
Page  198,  line    2,  for  "Glisshone"  read  Glisshorn. 
Page  200,  line    8,  for  " valley"  read  gallery. 
Pago  220,  line    5,  for  "manor"  read  manner. 
Page  247,  line  11,  for  "the  portico"  read  a  portico. 
Page  267,  line  12,  for  "mysterious"  read  mysteries. 
Page  268,  line  19,  for  "Centi"  read  Conti. 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER    I. 
New  York  to  Liverpool . .     9 

CHAPTER    II. 

Liverpool  —  Chester  —  Eaton  Hall  —  Bangor  —  Caernarvon  —  Llanberis  —  Dub 
lin  —  Belfast  —  Giant's  Causeway 22 

CHAPTER    III. 

Glasgow  —  The  Clyde  —  Loch  Long  —  Loch  Lomond  —  Ben  Lomond  —  Loch 
Katrine  — Loch  Achray  —  Stirling—  Edinburgh  —  Abbottsford  —  Melrose  — 
Dryburgh _ 43 

CHAPTER    IV. 

Penrith —  Ulswater —  Windermere  —  Grasmere  —  Rydal  —  Ainbleside  —  Lan 
caster—  Haworth—  York—  Chesterfield—  Chatsworth—  Haddon  Hall — 
Kenilworth  —  Warwick  —  Leamington  —  Stratford-on-Avon 73 

CHAPTER    V. 

London  —  Spurgeon  —  St.  Paul's — Westminster  Abbey — Windsor  Castle  — 
Tower  —  British  Museum 102 

CHAPTER    VI. 
Ostend  —  Brussels  —  Waterloo  —  Antwerp  —  Malines  —  Cologne 120 

CHAPTER    VII. 

Konigswenter—  Drachenfels—  The  Rhine  —  Mayence  —  Weisbaden  —  Frank 
fort —  Baden  Baden  —  Strasbourg  —  Basle 137 

CHAPTBR    VIII. 

Basle  — Lake  of  the  Four  Cantons  —  Rigi  — Sarnen  — Brunig  Pass— Meiringen 
—  Rosenlaui  —  Brienz  —  Interlacb.en  —  Lanterbrunnen  —  The  Staubbach  — 
Than  —  Berne  —  Lake  Leman  —  Geneva. . .  . .  157 


Vlll  CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER    IX. 

Chamouni —  La  Flegere —  Sources  of  the  Arveiron  —  T6te  Noire  —  Martigny 
—  Pierre  a  voir  —  Brieg  —  Simplon  —  Domo  d'Ossola — Lake  Maggiore — 
Arona 181 

CHAPTER    X. 
Milan— Venice 204 

CHAPTER    XI. 

Padua  —  Bologna  —  Apennines  —  Florence  —  Pisa  —  Leghorn  —  The  Mediter 
ranean  —  Civita  Vecchia 222 

CHAPTER    XII. 

Rome  —  St.  Peter's  —  Vatican  —  Capitol  —  Forum  —  Coliseum  —  Naples  —  Her- 
culaneum  —  Pompeii  —  Museum  —  Chapels  —  Pausilippo 240 

CHAPTER    XIII. 

Rome  —  St.  Peter's  —  Vatican  —  Villa  Borghese  —  Pincian  Hill  —  Palaces  Ros- 
pigliosi,  Borghese,  Barberini,  Spada  —  Churches  of  St.  Augustin,  St.  John  in 
the  Lateran,  St.  Maria  Maggiore,  St.  Pietro  in  Vinculo,  Cappuccini  —  Scala 
Santa  —  Fountains  —  Catacombs  —  Columbaria  —  Baths  —  Genoa  —  Turin  — 
MontCenis 262 

CHAPTER    XIV. 

Paris  —  Louvre — Notre  Dame  —  Hotel  des  Invalides  —  Bois  de  Boulogne  — 
Jardin  des  Plants  — Gobelins  — Chapel  of  St.  Ferdinand  —  Ste.  Chapelle  — 
Luxembourg — -.  284 

CHAPTER     XV. 
Versailles  — Pere  la  Chaise  — Havre  — English  Channel 298 

CHAPTER    XVI. 

London  —  Madame  Tussaud  —  National  Gallery — Houses  of  Parliament  — 
Courts  —  St.  Thomas,  Chartreux  —  Lord  Mayor's  Day  —  Hampton  Court  — 
Sydenham  Palace  —  Zoological  Gardens  —  Thames  River —  Tunnel  —  Christ's 
Hospital  —  Westminster  Abbey 313 

CHAPTER    XVII. 

London  — Hyde  Park  — Theatres  — South  Kensington  Museum  — Guildhall- 
Oxford— Birmingham— Liverpool 331 

CHAPTER    XVIII. 
Scotia  — Li verpoolto  New  York 346 


WAYSIDE  SKETCHES 


'CHAPTER   I. 

THE     GREAT     EASTERN. 

N 

New  York  to  Liverpool. 

WE  left  Flushing  yesterday,  July  21st,  1863,  at 
one  o'clock  p.  M.  It  was  blowing  a  gale,  yet  the 
great  ship  got  under  weigh  without  making  us  aware 
that  she  had  left  her  moorings.  She  held  on  her 
course  without  perceptible  motion  until  we  left  the 
Sound,  and  since,  nothing  beyond  a  slight  roll 
reminds  us  that  we  are  not  upon  terra  firma.  " 

This  morning  we  passed  one  of  our  gunboats 
pitching  and  tossing  upon  the  waves,  and  later  in 
the  day  have  seen  a  veritable  whale  spouting  in 
the  distance.  The  day  is  charming — and  the  deck 
resembles  the  street  of  a  city.  We  find  our  state 
rooms  delightful.  The  time  is  apparently  measured 
only  by  alternate  seasons  of  eating  and  sleeping. 
We  breakfast  at  eight,  lunch  at  twelve,  dine  at  five, 
and  take  tea  at  any  later  hour  until  ten.  The  lights 


10  WAYSIDE     SKETCHES. 

are  extinguished  at  half-past  eleven.  A  trumpet  is 
blown  in  each  companion  way  to  summon  us  to  table, 
and  a  band  discourses  sweet  music  at  intervals,  wind 
ing  up  at  night  with  God  save  the  Queen.  The 
number  of  passengers  is  said  to  be  between  two  and 
three  hundred. 

July  23.  The  sea  still  smooth  as  a  river — the 
day  charming — no  symptom  of  seasickness  possible. 
The  magnificent  ship  holds  her  stately  way  as  if  she 
were  an  island  set  adrift  upon  the  waters.  She  is 
indeed  a  little  world  within  herself.  Her  regular 
quota  of  officials  is  four  hundred  and  eighty,  and 
she  registers  twenty-five  thousand  tons. 

We  have  been  upon  deck  all  the  morning,  and 
its  size,  and  the  multitudes  of  people  every  where 
astir,  destroy  entirely  the  effect  of  isolation  which 
we  usually  connect  with  the  idea  of  a  ship  alone 
in  an  amphitheatre  of  sea  and  sky.  A  programme 
of  games  among  the  sailors  for  this  afternoon  has 
been  put  aside  for  the  funeral  of  a  little  child  among 
the  steerage  passengers.  My  heart  aches  for  the 
mother  who  leaves  her  baby  in  these  lone  waters. 
A  ball  announced  for  eight  o'clock  will  probably  be 
postponed  also. 

July  24.  Another  charming  day.  There  is  a 
stiff  breeze,  which,  however,  produces  no  perceptible 
effect  upon  the  motion  of  the  ship.  For  the  last  two 
days,  we  have  made  two  hundred  and  ninety  miles 
eacli,  and  our  entire  progress  amounts  to  eight  hun 
dred  and  thirty-five  miles  since  we  weighed  anchor 


WAYSIDE     SKETCHES.  11 

in  Flushing  Bay.  The  ball  came  off,  and  lasted  until 
nearly  midnight.  The  postponed  games  are  to  be 
instituted  this  afternoon.  Meanwhile,  we  enjoy  the 
afternoon  regulation,  nap  ;  an  unlimited  capacity  for 
sleep  seeming  to  be  among  the  legitimate  effects  of 
seagoing.  This  morning,  as  I  looked  out  at  the  port 
hole,  I  saw  an  oar  floating  by — perhaps  borne  away 
by  the  tide  from  the  peaceful  shore — perhaps  only 
the  relic  of  some  nameless  wreck,  for  whose  return 
loving  eyes  have  grown  dim  with  watching — 
perhaps  it  was  plied  by  some  lone  wanderer  towards 
a  hope  of  safety,  until  death  unnerved  his  grasp,  and 
he  sank  down  to  be  drifted  out  to  the  mighty  sepul 
chre,  which  enshrouds  alike  the  wealth  of  past  ages 
and  the  baby  of  yesterday. 

July  25.  I  do  not  know  two  more  incongruous 
personalities  than  a  Yankee  ashore  and  a  Yankee  at 
sea.  It  would  be  decidedly  to  the  advantage  of  the 
"  universal  nation"  if  it  could  be  set  afloat,  and  learn 
to  enjoy  the  delicious  dreamy  idleness  of  ship  life. 
It  seems  impossible  to  settle  one's  self  to  any  more 
intense  mental  activity  than  may  consist  with  watch 
ing  the  lazy  dip  of  the  distant  horizon  as  the  great 
ship  rolls  gently  from  side  to  side.  Occasionally  a 
distant  sail  attracts  universal  attention,  but  for  my 
own  part,  I  should  scarcely  have  believed  it  possible 
to  spend  so  many  days  without  a  real  thought. 

This  morning  opened  fair,  with  a  strong  breeze, 
but  on  going  upon  deck  this  afternoon,  we  found 
ourselves  enveloped  in  a  thick  fog.  The  ship  goes 


12  WAYSIDE     SKETCHES. 

on  with  diminished  speed,  blowing  a  warning  whistle 
at  short  intervals,  with  good  reason,  for  we  are  on 
the  banks,  and  have  passed  a  fleet  of  fishing  boats 
with  their  small  craft  out.  Little  chance  for  the 
unlucky  vessel  which  fails  to  keep  a  good  lookout 
for  the  Leviathan. 

The  amusements  of  yesterday  and  to-day  have  had 
the  attraction  of  novelty  at  least.  They  have  been 
foot  races,  sack  races,  steeple  chases,  hurdle  races 
and  cock  fights.  The  last  mentioned  not  being  the 
inhuman  sport  of  the  feathered  tribe,  but  a  good 
natured  set-to  of  the  biped  of  more  pretensions.  It 
is  conducted  on  this  wise.  Two  men,  having  their 
hands  tied,  clasp  their  knees,  and  a  stout  stick  is 
thrust  under  the  knees  and  over  the  arms.  Then, 
sitting  upon  the  deck,  face  to  face,  they  fight  with 
the  feet;  the  object  of  each  man  being  to  throw  his 
opponent  on  his  back,  by  inserting  his  toes  under  his 
feet  The  match  evidently  requires  much  coolness 
and  dexterity,  and  the  last  one  was  prolonged  until 
the  intensity  of  concentration  and  watchfulness  on  the 
part  of  the  combatants  became  something  painful. 
The  winner  is  he  who  first  throws  his  adversary 
three  times. 

The  sack  race  is  very  amusing.  The  men  are  tied 
in  sacks  to  their  throats,  feet,  hands  and  all,  and 
accomplish  their  progress  by  hopping  within  their 
limited  accommodations — of  course,  the  slightest 
mischance  sends  them  rolling  helplessly  upon  the 
ground.  In  addition  to  the  interest  common  to  all 


WAYSIDE     SKETCHES.  13 

the  spectators,  the  races  have  evidently  gratified  the 
English  thirst  for  betting. 

The  weather  grows  cold,  but  is  delightful  and 
invigorating.  I  have  not  yet  come  to  a  realizing 
sense  of  being  at  sea,  more  than  a  thousand  miles 
from  home,  and  am  half  inclined  to  fancy  that  the 
vivid  descriptions  of  self-consciousness  which  belong 
to  the  literature  of  the  sea  must  be  written  after  one 
has  reached  dry  land. 

July  29.  The  foregoing  hiatus  is  chargeable  to 
the  account  of  Neptune  and  his  angry  nymphs,  as  I 
shall  proceed  to  show. 

On  Sunday  morning  we  came  upon  the  wake  of 
an  old  gale,  which,  having  been  perhaps  baulked  of 
the  mischief  for  which  it  was  brewed,  proceeded  to 
wreak  its  vengeance  upon  us  innocent  voyagers. 
We  assembled  in  the  grand  saloon  at  eleven  o'clock 
for  divine  service.  The  captain,  having  been  up  all 
night,  declined  his  accustomed  office  of  chaplain, 
which  devolved,  in  consequence,  upon  a  Presbyte 
rian  minister,  who  received  private  instructions  in 
the  purser's  cabin  upon  the  English  service.  The 
lessons  were  read  by  the  Rev.  Gordon  Hall,  son  of 
the  first  American  missionary  to  India,  and  the  ser 
mon  preached  by  a  Scotch  minister  from  Toronto. 
The  band  led  the  music  in  the  adjoining  saloon. 
This  was  one  of  three  services  held  at  the  same  time 
in  the  enormous  vessel. 

For  my  own  part,  I  soon  became  aware  that  the 
ship  had  added  to  her  usual  roll  a  peculiar  lifting  of 


14  WAYSIDE     SKETCHES. 

her  forefoot,  producing  a  gastric  complication  by  no 
means  enviable,  and  I  prudently  seated  myself  near 
the  door ;  where,  having  remained  until  the  conclu 
sion  of  the  morning  prayer,  I  found  it  expedient  to 
beat  a  hasty  retreat;  and  for  a  few  moments  my 
personal  experience  of  the  malady  of  the  sea  would 
have  satisfied  the  wishes  of  my  best  medical  advisers. 
But  the  disease  is  fatal  neither  to  life  nor  spirits,  and 
although  I  had  missed  the  sermon,  I  stood  at  the 
port-hole,  and  the  magnificent  waves  took  to  them 
selves  a  text  and  preached  to  me  a  solitary  sermon 
upon  the  might  of  Him  who  has  poured  these  resist 
less  waters  from  the  hollow  of  His  hand,  and  yet  has 
made  of  the  sand  a  bound  to  the  sea  that  it  shall  not 
pass  over.  I  remarked,  too,  that  the  angrier  the  wave, 
the  more  beautiful  was  its  crest,  and  I  thought  of 
His  tender  love,  that  outrides  the  billows  of  turmoil 
and  pain,  and  brings,  even  out  of  their  own  depths, 
jov  and  peace  by  the  light  of  His  countenance. 

But  the  gale  freshened,  and  presently  the  move- 
ables  of  our  domain  broke  away  and  went  adrift— 
chairs,  tables  and  trunks  performing  gyrations  after 
the  most  approved  style  of  a  modern  waltz ;  while 
the  peregrinations  of  the  inhabitants  were  performed 
upon  decidedly  original  principles.  But  the  careful 
steward  of  the  bed  chamber  soon  made  all  fast ; 
hooked  up  the  tables,  screwed  up  the  port,  made  a 
barricade  of  the  luggage  before  my  sofa,  confiscated 
one  chair  and  made  a  chevaux-de-frise  of  the  other, 
and  left  us  all  prostrate  at  the  altar  of  the  Tritons. 


WAYSIDE     SKETCHES.  15 

However,  it  is  not  to  be  supposed  that  we  were  so 
wanting  to  ourselves  as  to  be  absent  from  table,  and 
the  ludicrous  scenes  of  the  dining  room  abundantly 
compensated  us  for  the  effort.  The  guards  prevented 
an  escapade  of  the  dishes,  but  not  necessarily  of 
their  contents.  The  reckless  wight  who  took  soup 
took  a  good  deal  of  it ;  my  vis-a-vis  ate  his  duck, 
but  pocketed  the  olives :  somersaults  were  in  fashion, 
and  the  waiters  scrambled  about,  distributing  the 
viands  impartially  between  the  guests  and  the  floor. 
A  sudden  lurch  made  a  cataract  of  the  china  upon 
the  sideboard,  while  the  same  blow  sent  the  dessert 
flying  about  the  kitchen  floor.  Nobody  slept  at 
night ;  some  of  the  waves  broke  over  our  port,  fifty 
feet  above  water  level,  and  washed  the  boats  at  the 
davits.  The  only  sight  visible  through  the  darkness 
was  the  window,  like  the  great  eye  of  Neptune,  now 
staring  at  us  from  above,  now  peering  at  us  from 
below.  Among  the  rest  of  the  unearthly  noises  of 
the  night,  was  the  flapping  of  canvas,  as  the  sailors 
struggled  to  set  the  main  topsail  to  steady  the  ship. 
The  struggle  was  short,  and  the  sail  went  by  the 
board,  with  a  report  like  the  crack  of  artillery.  The 
tattered  remnants  still  cling  to  the  heavy  yard. 

With  all  this,  there  was  neither  storm  nor  danger, 
but  an  experience  which  one  would  not  miss,  as  a 
part  of  the  legitimate  routine  of  seagoing.  Our 
cabin  is  a  cozy  home  of  our  own,  so  arranged  that  it 
becomes  at  pleasure  one  room  or  two ;  my  own 
domain  especially  comfortable,  as,  with  my  friends' 


16  WAYSIDE     SKETCHES. 

usual  kind  consideration  for  my  comfort,  I  am  be 
stowed  where  I  am  "rocked  in  the  cradle  of  the 
deep,"  instead  of  playing  at  see-saw  with  my  head 
and  feet.  We  are  especially  favored  with  good  ven 
tilation,  as,  besides  the  port-hole,  we  have  a  window 
communicating  through  the  deck  with  the  outer  air, 
and  also  with  a  tartarus  of  a  fire-hole  in  the  abyss 
below.  It  is  curious  to  watch  at  night  the  weird 
effect  of  the  grimy  demon  of  those  profound  depths, 
as  he  stirs  the  raging  fires,  and  eminently  suggestive 
also  of  the  potentialities  hanging  on  his  watchfulness. 

On  Monday  and  Tuesday  we  had  a  heavy  sea,  but 
we  have  crossed  the  gale,  and  are  out  of  the  rolling 
forties.  Notwithstanding  the  roll,  it  has  been  de 
lightful  on  deck,  and  we  cannot  sufficiently  con 
gratulate  ourselves  that  we  are  established  in  such  a 
stately  palace  of  motion,  and  can  enjoy  the  rough 
sea  without  being  driven  below  by  the  waves. 

It  rains  to-day,  and  we  have  taken  refuge  in  whist. 
We  have  advanced  many  degrees  towards  the  sun- 
rising,  and  it  requires  a  fresh  calculation  every  day 
to  follow  home  friends,  God  bless  them,  through 
home  avocations. 

Another  death  occurred  on  board  yesterday, — 
that  of  a  woman  travelling  to  England  to  die.  Her 
husband  and  children  are  with  her.  Her  disease  was 
a  hopelessly  advanced  cancer,  and  the  sickness  of  the 
rough  night  induced  a  hemorrhage,  which  hastened 
her  sufferings  to  a  close.  She  is  to  be  taken  to  land 
for  burial.  I  do  not  know  that  there  is  any  thing 


WAYSIDE     SKETCHES.  17 

very  terrible  in  the  thought  of  being  consigned  to 
this  vast  sepulchre  of  the  dead,  where  no  foot  of 
mammon  may  disturb  the  long  repose;  where  the 
solemn  requiem  of  wind  and  wave  rings  ever  above 
the  spot,  marked  only  by  the  eye  of  Him  who 
knows  where  to  find  His  beloved  when  the  sea  shall 
give  up  its  dead. 

July  30.  The  weather,  rainy  for  some  days,  is 
making  an  effort  at  sunlight  —  the  sea  steady  —  but 
it  is  not  a  good  day  for  the  deck. 

The  event  of  yesterday  was  a  musical  soiree,  for 
the  benefit  of  the  band  which  has  contributed  so 
largely  towards  our  enjoyment  on  board.  It  was 
difficult  to  remember  that  we  were  on  shipboard, 
thousands  of  miles  at  sea.  The  grand  saloon,  a 
splendid  well  lighted  parlor,  filled  with  well  dressed 
people,  the  charming  band,  the  amateur  volunteers, 
both  gentlemen  and  ladies,  differed  in  nothing— 
except,  perhaps,  in  their  superiority — from  a  similar 
scene  in  the  parlor  of  a  fashionable  watering  place ; 
while  in  the  steady  way  of  the  great  ship,  there  was 
nothing  to  remind  us  that  we  were  ploughing  the 
unstable  waves.  "We  had  Italian  music  and  ballads 
—  some  admirable  performances  upon  the  piano.  A 
fine  barytone  gave  us  The  Old  Sexton,  Eocked  in 
the  Cradle  of  the  Deep,  and  Twenty  Years  Ago — 
the  last  mentioned  going  down  straight  into  the 
depths  of  the  heart.  We  had,  in  addition,  some 
amusing  feats  of  legerdemain  and  ventriloquism ; 
wound  up  with  the  Marseillaise,  the  Star  Spangled 


18  WAYSIDE     SKETCHES. 

Banner,  and  Grod  save  the  Queen,  and  went  home 
near  midnight,  highly  gratified. 

It  is  a  matter  of  continual  regret  that  the  splendid 
ship,  which  we  so  much  enjoy,  should,  in  any  respect, 
fail  to  deserve  the  suffrages  of  the  travelling  public. 
But,  while  in  security,  accommodations  and  pleasure 
it  is  inimitable,  the  table  is  unpardonably  deficient. 
The  viands  are  badly  (not  scantily)  furnished,  and 
worse  cooked.  It  is  a  matter  of  comparatively  little 
importance  to  me,  but  it  is  a  pity  that  an  establish 
ment,  otherwise  so  perfect,  sriould  fail  in  a  point 
essential  to  general  comfort  and  to  the  reputation 
of  the  vessel.  However,  I  am  willing  to  compound 
for  its  many  advantages  with  the  temporary  discom 
fort  of  the  table ;  and,  undoubtedly,  the  mortifica 
tion  attendant  upon  the  faults  of  the  present  trip  will 
prevent  their  recurrence.  We  are  to  have  races 
again  this  afternoon,  and  a  dance  this  evening. 

July  31.  Once  more  a  delicious  day — the  air 
bland  with  the  soft  south  wind,  and  the  sea  quiet  as  a 
lake.  Made  the  first  land  a  little  past  one,  and  I  can 
no  more  realize  that  we  are  actually  running  down 
the  coast  of  Ireland,  than  if  I  had  been  making  only 
a  trip  up  the  Hudson — moreover,  we  have  had  no 
tedium  at  sea,  to  make  us  hail  the  sight  of  land  with 
any  enthusiasm  for  the  land's  sake.  Having  never 
enjoyed  a  more  delightful  week  in  my  life,  I  arn  in 
no  haste  to  urge  it  to  a  close,  and  in  no  humor  to 
lose  the  intensity  of  present  enjoyment  in  visions  of 
anticipation. 


WAYSIDE     SKETCHES.  19 

Yesterday  was  the  Captain's  dinner,  and,  as  my 
first  experience  of  a  public  dinner,  I  shall  not 
readily  forget  it.  The  dinner  was  a  handsome  one, 
wine  plentifully  bestowed,  and  after  the  cloth  was 
Temoved  came  toasts  and  speeches.  The  Captain 
led  off  by  proposing  with  appropriate  speeches  the 
Queen,  and  the  American  Nation.  Nobody  taking 
upon  himself  the  representation  of  either  personality, 
the  toasts  were  drunk  with  acclamation,  and  then 
came  Mr.  R,  briefly  but  happily  proposing  the  Cap 
tain.  His  speech  was  not  only  applauded,  but  after 
wards  warmly  commended  by  the  passengers.  Capt. 
Paton's  reply  was  very  good,  defining  his  position  in 
a  modest  yet  dignified  manner,  and  taking  the  occa 
sion  to  express  the  pain  which  the  failure  of  his 
agents  of  supply  in  New  York  had  caused  him,  in 
such  a  hearty  earnest  way,  that  every  body  felt  there 
was  nothing  more  to  be  said  upon  the  subject. 

The  Surgeon,  the  Purser  and  the  first  officer  were 
then  called  out.  The  ladies  made  their  acknowl 
edgments  by  the  mouth  of  some  English  gentleman^ 
Afterwards  came  other  speeches  and  toasts,  prolong 
ing  the  affair  a  trifle  beyond  the  limits  of  good  taste, 
and  concluding  with  the  Captain's  speech  in  behalf  of 
Mrs.  Paton.  It  was  all  quite  exciting  to  me,  and 
had,  besides,  the  charm  of  novelty. 

The  evening  was  spent  in  the  ball  room.  I  wish 
I  could  picture  the  scene  to  home  eyes,  by  way  of 
contrast  to  the  commonly  received  ideas  of  even 
pleasant  life  on  shipboard.  Here  was  an  elegant 


20  WAYSIDI^     SKETCHES. 

room,  about  sixty  by  thirty  feet  in  extent,  brilliantly 
lighted  by  chandeliers  and  gaily  decorated  shades, 
and  adorned  with  banners,  filled  with  gay  dancers 
and  a  merry  host  of  spectators,  officers,  waiters  with 
trays  of  ices,  &c.,  all  moving  about  at  perfect  ease, 
and  in  utter  oblivion  of  the  unstable  element  upon 
which  we  were  floating ;  our  single  world  probably 
the  sole  tenant  of  the  horizon.  We  looked  into  each 
other's  faces  to  exclaim  "Can  this  be  the  sea?" 
Success  to  the  stately  ship,  the  wonder  of  the  seas. 
We  shall  all  leave  her  with  real  regret,  and  with 
kindly  remembrances  of  her  commander.  I  hear, 
at  this  moment,  the  merry  shouts  on  deck.  They  are 
finishing  the  races  of  the  trip  with  a  grinning  match. 
To-morrow  night  we  expect  to  sleep  on  shore.  If 
our  tour  should  end  here,  I  should  be  the  happier, 
for  the  rest  of  my  life,  for  the  pleasure  of  the  last 
fortnight. 

Aug.  1.  One  more  entry  at  sea.  We  are  running 
up  St.  George's  Channel  this  morning,  and  have 
already  passed  Holyhead,  the  grand  headland  of 
North  Wales.  And  now  I  feel,  for  the  first  time, 
the  awe  of  treading  the  threshold  of  the  Old  World 
—  that  long  desire  of  a  lifetime.  The  very  air  we 
breathe  is  redolent  of  past  ages — the  soil  we  seek  to 
tread  rich  in  classic  memories.  We  come  to  lay  hold 
of  tangible  links  in  the  chain  that  binds  the  Present 
to  the  immutable  Past,  and  must,  at  every  step,  kin 
dle  a  torch  of  remembrance,  whose  light  shall  shine 
amid  the  lengthening  shadows  of  our  lifelong  path 


WAYSIDE     SKETCHES.  21 

—an  Aladdin's  lamp,  whose  touch  shall  bring  to 
light  visions  which  put  to  shame  the  fairy  dreams  of 
Arabian  lore. 


22  WAYSIDE     SKETCHES. 


A  f  Tw 


CHAPTER   II. 


FIKST     IMPRESSIONS. 


Liverpool — Chester — Eaton    Hall — Bangor — Caernarvon — Llanberis — Dublin — 
Belfast — Giant's  Causeway. 


AUG.  2.  On  shore  at  last.  The  great  ship  came 
to  anchor  yesterday  about  five  o'clock,  too  late  to 
cross  the  bar.  A  tug  took  off  all  the  passengers 
who  desired  to  land,  among  whom  we  were  not :  the 
prospect  of  a  twenty  miles'  sail  at  night  in  an  open 
steamer,  not  proving  enticing.  The  band  played 
Auld  Lang  Syne  as  the  tug  moved  off,  bearing 
away  some  whose  share  in  this  brief  companionship 
will  claan  many  pleasant  remembrances.  We  re 
mained  on  board,  attended  a  dance,  and  came  off 
this  morning. 

The  form,  for  it  is  nothing  more,  of  examining 
the  luggage  occupied  a  considerable  time,  and  we 
did  not  leave  the  ship  until  half-past  ten  o'clock. 
She  gave  us  a  gun  as  a  parting  salute,  and  we  left 
the  abode  of  a  pleasant  fortnight  with  some  regret, 
even  for  the  shores  of  Europe. 

I  wonder  what  Yankeedom  would  say  if  its  water- 
going  journeys  were  to  be  performed  in  a  steamer 
without  seat  or  shelter ;  yet  that  was  the  style  of  our 
first  travel  in  the  maternal  country. 


WAYSIDE     SKETCHES.  23 

Liverpool  is  very  unlike  my  preconceived  idea  of 
the  great  commercial  city;  I  had  fancied  it  dirty, 
dingy,  crowded  and  uninteresting.  But  my  notions 
have  been  corrected  —  no  very  unusual  occurrence. 
The  solid  masonry  of  the  long  miles  of  docks  is  in 
striking  contrast  to  our  dirty  piers,  and  our  landing 
upon  the  clean  pavement  of  the  wharf  was  as  quiet 
as  a  walk  in  a  country  town. 

The  Washington  is  an  elegant  hotel,  just  out  of 
St.  George's  Square.  In  the  broad  open  place  stands 
a  pillar  which  serves  as  pedestal  to  a  statue  of  the 
Duke  of  Wellington,  and  upon  one  side  of  the  square 
stands  St.  George's  Hall,  considered  a  very  elegant 
edifice.  The  smoke  reduces  all  architecture  to  a 
common  hue,  but  one  is  immediately  impressed  with 
the  solidity  of  the  structures.  The  street  is  very 
clean,  but  not  a  vehicle  reminds  us  of  its  congeners 
in  America.  We  have  had  a  charming  drive  to 
Prince's  Park,  and  a  walk  in  the  private  gardens,  a 
beautiful  extent  of  ornamental  gardening.  We  have 
been  to  St.  George's  Hall,  a  fine  building,  one  of 
whose  beauties  is  the  style  of  column,  consisting  of 
a  kind  of  brown  variegated  marble,  finished  in  tall 
shafts  of  exquisite  polish,  with  Corinthian  capitals. 
The  concert  room  is  very  handsome,  but  its  size 
struck  me  as  very  small  for  such  a  purpose,  in  so 
large  a  city. 

Aug.  3.  I  feel  how  baldly  meagre  must  be  any 
attempt  to  describe  the  pleasure  of  a  day  at  Chester, 
and  yet  to  pass  it  over  would  be  to  omit  a  day  of 


24  WAYSIDE     SKETCHES. 

sight-seeing  than  which  we  can  have  no  other  more 
enjoyable. 

We  left  Liverpool  about  noon,  crossing  to  Birken- 
head,  and  came  by  rail  to  Chester,  one  hour's  dis 
tance.  Only  one  hour  from  this  commercial  depot 
of  the  modern  world  to  the  shades  of  Julius  Caesar ! 

This  ancient  city  is  surrounded  by  a  perfect  wall, 
whose  date  runs  back  to  its  occupation  by  the  Bo- 
mans,  A.  D.  61.  The  top  of  the  wall  is  flagged  and 
guarded  by  a  battlement  of  solid  masonry,  making 
a  beautiful  promenade  entirely  around  the  old  city. 
It  crosses  the  streets  by  bridges  or  archways,  called 
gates,  which  give  names  to  various  streets,  such  as 
East  Gate  Street,  Water  Gate  Street,  &c.  Flights 
of  steps  descend  to  the  footways  at  each  crossing. 
The  whole  structure  shows  great  care,  both  of  pres 
ervation  and  restoration. 

There  are  several  towers  flanking  the  angles  of 
the  wall.  From  one  of  these — the  Phenix  Tower, 
King  Charles  the  First  witnessed  the  defeat  of  his 
army  upon  Kowton  Moor.  The  upper  story  of  the 
tower  is  improved,  as  the  Yankees  sa}7",  as  a  museum 
of  antique  relics  of  the  city  itself,  and  contains,  be 
sides,  sundry  curiosities  from  foreign  lands.  The 
lower  floor,  where  are  vended  prints  of  Chester  and 
its  celebrities,  was  once  a  Eoman  council  chamber. 

Within  the  castle,  now  occupied  as  barracks,  is  a 
portion  of  wall  built  by  Caesar.  At  the  foot  of  this 
wall,  and  elsewhere  throughout  the  city,  have  been 
exhumed  innumerable  Roman  antiquities ;  and  at 


WAYSIDE     SKETCHES.  25 

the  present  moment  an  excavation  is  going  on  in 
Bridge  Street,  where  the  foundations  of  an  immense 
temple  are  exposed,  supposed  by  antiquarians  to 
have  been  a  temple  to  Diana.  The  foundations  and 
portions  of  the  massive  pillars  are  plainly  visible,  at 
a  slight  distance  below  the  level  of  the  street. 

In  a  cellar,  immediately  adjoining,  is  a  Eoman 
bath,  in  perfect  preservation,  hewn  out  of  solid  rock, 
and  still  kept  partially  filled  by  some  concealed 
spring  or  conduit  below.  Close  by  is  a  hypocaust, 
or  large  furnace,  also  hewn  in  arches  from  the  solid 
rock,  for  the  purpose  of  heating  a  sudatorium  or 
sweating  room  above. 

The  wonder  is,  not  so  much  that  these  things 
should  have  been  established  upon  the  island  so  long 
ago,  but  that,  through  all  the  upheavals  of  all  the 
centuries,  they  should  have  been  permitted  to 
remain,  the-  unquestionable,  unchanged  tokens  of 
the  old  Roman  inhabitation. 

The  entire  effect  of  the  town  is  a  translation  of 
sympathy  and  almost  of  individuality  to  the  remote 
past,  with  a  sense  of  the  actuality  of  History,  as 
opposed  to  the  reality  of  Fiction.  The  streets  them 
selves  close  the  eyes  of  one's  perceptions  to  the  nine 
teenth  century ;  and,  peering  through  the  mists  of  the 
ages,  we  dimly  discern  the  daily  life  of  the  men  and 
women  who  formed  the  people,  hundreds  of  years 
ago.  Of  those  times,  History  records  the  public  acts 
of  the  great  lights  of  the  nations ;  but  here  we  see  the 
very  dwellings  where  burned  the  rushlights  of  the 


26  WAYSIDE     SKETCHES. 

multitude  —  the  narrow  ways  which  their  feet  have 
trodden — the  very  altars  where  they  worshipped  - 
the    very   burial    places   where   they   were  laid   to 
rest. 

Upon  one  old  house  —  the  only  one  which  escaped 
the  plague  —  is  inscribed  "  God's  providence  is  mine 
inheritance;"  upon  another  in  the  same  street  are 
quaint  carvings  representing  scripture  scenes.  Hard 
by,  diving  through  a  narrow  entrance  to  a  small 
square  court,  we  find  the  Derby  House,  the  palace  of 
the  Stanleys.  We  were  shown  into  the  dining  hall, 
now  used  as  the  shop  of  a  mechanic,  but  retaining 
the  same  raftered  roof  and  wainscoted  wall  as  when 
nobility  banqueted  within  its  narrow  limits.  The 
same  iron  studded  door  opened  to  us  that  swung 
upon  its  hinges  to  admit  the  scions  of  royalty  ;  and 
little  plebeian  children  played  upon  the  worn  oaken 
staircase  which  led  to  the  bower  of  the  dames. 

Bishop  Loyd's  palace,  belonging  to  the  early  part 
of  the  seventeenth  century,  is  another  curious  relic 
of  that  which  constituted  magnificence  in  the  days 
when  the  Puritans  built  their  homes  in  our  western 
forests. 

The  remarkable  feature  of  the  streets  is  the  Kows. 
The  lower  stories  set  directly  upon  the  street,  serve 
as  shops,  and  above,  the  entire  front  of  the  second 
story  is  cut  away,  forming  a  continuous  arcade, 
within  which  are  arranged  the  shops  of  the  town. 
Steps  descend  to  the  street  at  frequent  intervals, 
while  the  dwellings  are  still  above. 


WAYSIDE     SKETCHES.  27 

The  great  points  of  interest  in  Chester  are  two 
ancient  churches — the  Cathedral,  or  the  Church  of 
St.  Oswald  and  St.  Werburgh,  and  the  Church  of 
St.  John  the  Baptist.  The  former  was  erected, 
mainly,  in  the  fourteenth  and  fifteenth  centuries, 
upon  a  site  once  occupied  by  a  temple  of  Apollo. 
The  choir  is  used  as  a  parish  church,  and  cathedral 
service  is  performed  here  twice  a  day.  The  cloisters 
around  the  quadrangle  were  to  me  the  most  interest 
ing  part  of  the  immense  edifice,  and  perhaps  the 
best  place  to  get  a  definite  idea  of  the  great  space 
occupied  by  the  Abbey. 

Time  is  wearing  away  the  massive  mullions  and 
stanchions  of  the  arched' windows,  but  the  kindly 
ivy  tenderly  shadows  the  unsightly  flaws,  and  con 
verts  the  jagged  outline  into  a  thing  of  beauty. 
My  fancy  went  back  to  the  monks  who  paced  these 
cloisters,  four  hundred  years  ago,  and  were  laid,  one 
by  one,  beneath  our  feet,  and  wondered  if  they  found 
in  this  green  retirement  the  peace  which  the  human 
race  has  since  ceased  even  to  desire. 

The  Church  of  St.  John  the  Baptist  is  of  still 
greater  antiquity  and  interest.  It  was  founded  in 
A.  D.  689,  and  the  old  chancel  is  still  standing  in  ivy- 
clad  ruin,  with  great  trees  thrusting  their  branches 
from  out  the  arches  of  its  windows.  The  carvings 
and  statues  of  the  ancient  edifice,  though  fallen,  are 
still  preserved  upon  the  spot,  and  are  gradually  incor 
porated  in  the  renovation  of  the  later  church,  which 
is  now  in  progress. 


28  WAYSIDE     SKETCHES. 

This  church,  repaired  thoroughly  in  1581,  is  of  a 
beautiful  style  of  architecture  —  Norman  rather  than 
Gothic.  The  part  used  as  a  church  is  simply  fitted 
up,  and  screened  from  the  open  aisles  by  a  partition 
of  rough  boards.  Upon  entering,  \ve  found  the 
vicar  waiting  in  the  chancel  to  perform  a  marriage 
ceremony.  Mr.  R  addressed  him,  and  he  showed  us 
the  utmost  courtesy,  pointing  out  many  things  of 
interest  connected  with  the  ancient  church. 

The  environs  of  Chester  are  charming.  The  great 
attraction  is  Eaton  Hall,  the  residence,  or  rather  one 
of  the  estates,  of  the  Marquis  of  Westminster,  the 
largest  landed  proprietor  in  England.  This  estate  is 
twelve  miles  in  length ;  but  miles  and  statistics  can 
give  little  idea  of  such  a  place.  We  obtained,  in  the 
town,  tickets  of  entrance  both  to  the  house  and  gar 
dens,  and  rolled  away  mile  after  mile,  over  a  perfect 
road,  winding  through  field  and  forest  and  park,  all 
showing  the  most  exquisite  culture,  and  varied  with 
careful  attention  to  effect;  and,  at  length,  reached 
the  magnificent  lawn  in  front  of  the  hall,  dotted 
with  stately  trees,  and  stretching  off  in  charming  per 
spective  to  the  wooded  background  in  the  distance. 
The  most  respectful  and  respectable  of  butlers 
received  us  in  the  vestibule,  and  conducted  us 
"  through  gallery  fair  and  high  arcade  "  to  the  show 
rooms  of  the  mansion.  The  vestibule  is  lofty  and 
elegant,  and  contains  several  pieces  of  statuary,  and 
four  suits  of  armor  in  effigy,  belonging  to  his  lord 
ship's  ancestors.  The  dining,  breakfast,  morning  and 


WAYSIDE     SKETCHES.  29 

drawing  rooms,  the  saloon  and  library,  are  all  en 
suite,  and  each  impresses  one  with  a  sense  of  magnifi 
cence,  hitherto  beyond  my  conception.  The  dining 
room  windows  look  out  upon  a  wonderful  scene  of 
garden  beauty,  the  flowers  being  not  only  disposed 
with  great  taste  in  the  form  of  the  parterres,  but  the 
colors  so  strikingly  arranged  as  produce  the  highest 
effect  either  of  contrast  or  harmony. 

The  walls  of  the  saloon  and  drawing  room  are 
frescoed  in  Spanish  scenes,  sketched  from  nature  by 
the  Marchioness  herself,  and  painted  by  Mr.  Morris 
of  Chester.  There  are  many  valuable  paintings  in 
the  various  rooms — two  by  Kubens,  two  by  Guercino 
—besides  the  family  portraits,  busts,  and  other  pieces 
of  sculpture  that  adorn  the  halls.  One  long  hall  is 
lined  with  pictures  of  noted  horses  that  have  be 
longed  to  the  family.  To  judge  from  their  number 
and  beauty,  the  race  of  Le  Gros  Veneur  has  not  yet 
lost  the  ancestral  taste. 

In  a  box  in  a  small  vestibule  is  a  huge  pig  of  lead, 
wrought  by  Koman  skill  from  British  mines  in  the 
first  century.  The  chapel  of  the  hall  is  a  perfect 
gem,  but  the  library  is  the  most  splendid  of  all  these 
apartments.  It  is  one  hundred  and  twenty  feet  long, 
lofty  and  elegant,  containing,  besides  the  organ  and 
book  cases,  statues  and  curiosities  too  numerous  and 
too  interesting  to  be  properly  understood  in  many 
visits.  A  faultless  Flora,  by  Wylie,  and  a  bust  of 
the  late  Marquis,  by  Chantrey,  are  the  finest  pieces  of 
statuary. 


30  WAYSIDE     SKETCHES. 

Nor  does  this  noble  house  disdain  the  work  of 
homelier  artists.  Among  the  rare  and  curious  ob 
jects  in  the  library  stands  a  table,  made  with  long 
and  patient  experiment  by  a  mechanic  of  Chester, 
which  is  ingeniously  wrought  to  show  the  grain  of 
three  hundred  blocks  of  the  different  kinds  of 
Englis"h  wood. 

The  gardens  include  long  ranges  of  hot-houses, 
green-houses,  graperies,  walls  of  fruit,  kitchen  gar 
dens,  ornamental  shrubberies,  and  artificial  lakes, 
containing  plants,  trees  and  shrubs,  from  all  coun 
tries  and  climates.  Among  the  smaller  trees,  the 
English  and  Irish  yew  were  especially  attractive. 

The  view  from  the  east  front  of  the  mansion, 
looking  down  the  broad  terraces,  filled  with  exquisite 
flowers,  interspersed  with  turfy  banks  and  wide  ave 
nues,  to  the  inlet  of  the  Dee  below ;  bounded  on 
either  side  by  the  graceful  sweep  of  the  bosky 
thicket  of  trees  and  shrubbery  which  shut  out  the 
park  views  beyond,  is  all  enchanting  as  a  dream  of 
fairy  land. 

Well  might  a  house  which  can  claim  this  beau 
tiful  domain  as  its  ancient  heritage  be  pardoned  for 
the  pride  of  birth.  But  this  is  only  one  of  the 
estates  of  the  Marquis,  and  he  spends  but  three 
months  of  the  year  in  this  abode  of  wealth  and  art 
and  beauty. 

A  day  at  Chester  alone,  would  repay  one  for 
crossing  the  Atlantic,  and  will  enrich  the  memory 
with  pleasure  for  a  lifetime. 


WAYSIDE     SKETCHES.  31 

We  visited  the  picturesque  cemetery,  arid  walked 
upon  the  ancient  wall,  and  traversed  the  quaint 
Rows ;  and  found,  every  where,  that  strange  min 
gling  of  the  shadows  of  the  dusky  Past  with  the 
sunshine  of  the  nineteenth  century,  that  constitutes 
such  a  charm  for  the  dwellers  in  a  land  which  has 
no  antiquity  beyond  the  memory  of  half  a  dozen 
generations. 

We  left  Chester  with  many  a  lingering  look,  and 
travelled  through  a  most  picturesque  country  to 
Bangor.  The  tide  was  down,  and,  stretching  miles 
away,  we  saw  the  sands  of  Dee ;  and  as  we  went  on, 
we  watched 

"  The  cruel  crawling  hungry  foam 
Come  o'er  the  sands  of  Dee." 

where  Mary  went  to 

"Call  the  cattle  home, 
But  never  home  came  she." 

On  this  route  we  made  our  first  acquaintance  with 
castles.  The  Castle  of  Grwych  rises  among  the  hills 
of  Wales  as  if  it  were  the  legitimate  outgrowth  of 
the  soil.  Conway  Castle  crowns  the  summit  of  a 
hill  under  which  the  railway  passes.  It  is  a  ruin  of 
great  extent.  The  ivy-covered  walls  reached  along 
the  crest  of  the  hill  as  far  as  we  could  see,  on  both 
sides  of  the  railway,  and  must  have  enclosed  a  cir 
cuit  unusual  even  in  the  times  of  castles. 

The  scenery  of  North  Wales  is  surpassingly  beau 
tiful.  It  is  a  combination  of  charming  fields,  bor- 


WAYSIDE     SKETCHES. 

dered  every  where  by  green  hedgerows,  and  showing 
the  most  careful  cultivation,  with  bold,  bare  masses 
of  granite,  towering  high  in  solitary  grandeur,  some 
times  affording  a  roothold  for  a  scanty  covering  of 
grass,  and  sometimes  lifting  their  heads  in  naked 
majesty  to  the  beating  of  the  eternal  storms. 

At  Bangor  we  found  an  inn  near  the  railway 
station,  nestled  close  at  the  foot  of  the  hills,  quaint 
in  its  old  fashioned  arrangements  —  the  very  type 
of  an  inn  for  such  a  locality,  and  a  delightful  sum 
mer  resort  for  those  who  would  enjoy  mountain 
excursions. 

There,  on  one  of  the  loveliest  days  that  ever 
smiled  npon  the  earth,  we  took  a  wagonette,  a  Welsh 
horse  and  a  Welsh  driver,  and  set  out  for  a  drive 
through  a  charming  variety  of  scenery  for  Caernar 
von  Castle. 

The  broad  road,  smooth  as  a  parlor  floor,  bordered 
by  walls  topped  with  a  hawthorn  hedge,  swept  up  and 
down  the  green  waves  of  the  fair  country,  with  the 
Menai  Strait  in  full  view  on  the  one  hand,  and  on 
the^  other,  the  hills  rising  higher  and  higher  to  the 
lofty  range  of  which  great  Snowdon  is  the  topmost 
peak.  Bowling  swiftly  along,  with  such  uninter 
rupted  smoothness  of  motion,  amid  such  a  country, 
and  inhaling  the  free,  bracing  mountain  air,  is  in 
itself  an  intensity  of  enjoyment  such  as  is  rarely 
experienced.  I  never  hope  for  such  a  day  again. 

We  drove  into  the  little  town  of  Caernarvon  upon 
a  holiday.  There  was  a  regatta  on  the  strait ;  Prince 


WAYSIDE     SKETCHES.  33 

Arthur  had  visited  the  castle,  and  all   Welshdom 
was  abroad. 

The  huge,  rude  walls  of  the  castle  rise  from  the 
water  side,  enclosing  a  not  very  extensive  court. 
The  walls  are  sound  and  massive  as  when  they 
formed  the  stronghold  of  Edward,  and  the  circuit  of 
the  court  is  still  solidly  complete.  Of  the  several 
towers,  the  highest  and  best  preserved  is  the  Eagle 
Tower,  in  which  Edward  the  Second  was  born.  The 
innumerable  steps  are  perfect  to  the  top.  Queen 
Eleanor's  chamber  is  a  small,  chill,  uncouth  apart 
ment,  with  a  huge  fireplace  occupying  an  entire  side, 
lighted  by  one  loop-hole,  and  flanked  by  two  ante 
rooms  for  the  attendant  guards.  The  poverty  of 
modern  womanhood  is  rare,  that  would  not  consider 
itself  unhappily  lodged  in  such  quarters,  even  though 
they  should  bear  the  title  of  royalty. 

One  cannot  fail  to  be  impressed  with  the  chill  dis 
comfort  which  must  have  characterized  noble  life 
within  the  heavy  walls  of  those  dark,  grim,  feudal 
castles.  It  may  have  been  all  very  well  for  knight 
and  squire,  but  as  for  the  dames,  I  am  glad  to  have 
been  born  in  the  nineteenth  century. 

The  quaint  old  town  of  Caernarvon  is  utterly  un 
like  any  thing  to  be  seen  in  the  New  World.  One 
is  here  every  where  impressed  with  the  enduring 
character  of  all  structures.  In  the  most  remote  of 
rural  dwellings,  you  feel  at  once  that  the  solid  cot 
tage  walls  have  already  sheltered  many  generations, 
and  will  shelter  many  more. 


34  WAYSIDE     SKETCHES. 

The  Welsh  cottages  are  extremely  picturesque, 
built  of  stone,  neatly  whitewashed,  and  covered  with 
ivy  to  the  eaves.  They  are  surrounded  by  pretty 
gardens,  gay  with  flowers,  among  which  the  Fuchsia 
is  conspicuous  —  here  a  tall,  hardy  shrub,  growing  as 
abundantly  as  our  own  lilac,  its  graceful  twigs  droop 
ing  with  a  weight  of  coral  drops.  The  hedges  are  of 
hawthorn,  and  the  banks  covered  with  bluebell  and  a 
beautiful  purple  flower  which  the  driver  called  cleat. 

We  sped  back  from  Caernarvon,  with  our  won 
derful  Welsh  horse,  in  the  direction  of  the  distant 
range  of  mountains,  the  countiy  growing  gradually 
wilder  and  higher,  until  we  stopped  at  an  inn  on  the 
borders  of  the  beautiful  Lake  of  Llanberis,  at  the  foot 
of  Llanberis  Pass.  The  inn,  covered  with  climbing 
flowers,  bore  the  pretentious  name  of  Peclarn  Villa. 
Here  we  exchanged  our  equipage  for  another  wagon 
ette  and  a  pair  of  ponies  necessary  to  the  ascent  of 
the  pass. 

Upon  the  opposite  side  of  the  lake  are  the  vast 
slate  quarries  of  Colonel  Pennant,  whose  residence, 
Pennryhn  Castle,  we  had  passed  upon  the  way  from 
Chester.  As  the  afternoon  wore  into  evening,  we 
saw  troops  of  white-jacketed  workmen  whirling 
along  the  railway  upon  the  bank,  returning  in  hand 
cars  from  their  work  to  the  habitable  regions  below. 
A  little  way  up  the  pass  stands  Pedarn  Castle,  a 
picturesque  ruin  of  a  single  tower,  upon  a  little  head 
land  projecting  into  the  lake.  Here  is  another  large 
hotel  for  the  accommodation  of  tourists. 


WAYSIDE     SKETCHES.  35 

Still  the  same  smooth,  carefully  kept  road,  wound 
up  the  mountain  way ;  and,  here  and  there,  perched 
in  the  almost  inaccessible  nooks  of  the  crags,  were 
the  same  neat  ivy-clad  cottages.  The  gorge  grew 
narrower,  and  the  cliffs  more  nearly  perpendicular ; 
but  every  where  we  could  see  sheep  clinging  to  the 
steep  sides,  and  browsing  the  scanty  herbage ;  tiny 
rills  and  larger  brooks  came  brawling  over  the  stony 
way  by  the  roadside ;  the  bald  storm-rent  hills  grew 
nearer,  and  cast  their  huge  fragments  at  our  feet; 
the  defile  narrowed,  until 

"'  Suspended  cliffs,  with  hideous  sway. 
Seemed  nodding  o'er  the  hollow  way, 
As  if  an  infant's  touch  could  urge 
Their  headlong  passage  down  the  verge." 

At  the  distance  of  five  miles  we  reached  the  sum 
mit  of  the  pass,  and  looked  down  the  pretty  green 
valley  of  Gwinnant  beyond.  About  nine  miles  far 
ther  on  are  Beth  Gelert  and  Cuppel  Curigg,  but  we 
were  too  late  for  a  prolonged  drive,  or  for  the  ascent 
of  Snowdon. 

We  followed  a  little  girl  as  guide  up  the  side  of 
the  mountain,  for  a  nearer  view  of  the  Cambrian 
monarch,  but  he  had  vailed  his  head  in  clouds. 
Mr.  R  went  on  up  the  sharp  ascent  until  we  heard 
his  voice  over  our  heads,  but  old  Snow  Jon  refused 
to  reveal  himself,  and  the  lengthening  shadows 
warned  us  to  return. 

We  came  down  the  pass,  and  took  tea  at  the  inn 
at  the  foot.  Shades  of  Llewellyn  !  what  a  rapacious 


36  WAYSIDE     SKETCHES. 

crew  make  merchandise  of  the  grand  and  the  pictu 
resque  in  this  lovely  land  ! 

We  returned  along  the  shadowy  lanes  of  the  silent 
landscape  to  Bangor,  with  a  bewildering  sense  of 
new  enjoyment,  and  a  panorama  of  wonderful  beauty 
impressed  upon  the  memory  for  all  time. 

The  appearance  of  the  peasantry  of  the  country 
through  which  we  passed,  was  very  pleasing.  The 
hardjr,  smiling,  rosy  faces,  at  the  doors  of  the  cotta 
ges,  spoke  unmistakably  of  health  and  content.  A 
curious  feature  among  them,  is  the  style  of  begging. 
Sturdy,  well-fed,  well-dressed  children  sped  after  the 
carriage,  patiently  repeating  their  only  English  word, 
"  ha'  penny  ;"  their  rosy,  healthy,  merry  faces,  con 
trasting  strangely  with  their  demand.  It  was  of  no 
use  to  refuse — on  they  pattered,  keeping  up  bravely 
'with  the  horse,  until  a  half  penny  tossed  among  the 
group,  would  institute  a  scramble  which  rendered 
further  pursuit  useless.'  I  looked  with  envy  upon 
the  brown  faces  of  the  little  rogues,  and  could  not 
but  admire  the  philosophy  which  pitched  their 
demand  upon  so  low  a  key,  that  they  could  not  pos 
sibly  be  disappointed  in  the  amount  bestowed. 

Aug.  5.  As  we  left  the  pretty,  quiet  inn,  at 
Bangor,  we  saw  the  little  Prince  Arthur,  on  his 
way  to  lunch  at  Castle  Pennrhyn.  He  is  a  nice 
looking  boy  of  thirteen,  very  like  the  pictures  of  his 
mother. 

We  crossed  the  tubular  bridge,  vainly  endeavoring 
to  realize  that  it  was  the  wonderful  structure  of 


WAYSIDE     SKETCHES.  37 

which  we  have  read  so  much.  It  is  only  one  among 
the  countless  things,  whose  grandeur  we  never  realize 
at  the  moment  of  contact.  Distance  seems  to  be  a 
peremptory  element  of  appreciation,  both  in  the 
physical  and  mental  world. 

We  crossed  the  island  of  Anglesea,  which  is  much 
less  picturesque  than  the  main  land,  and  took  the 
steamer  at  Holyhead  for  Kingstown.  The  passage 
was  rather  rough,  but  accomplished  in  four  hours. 
We  had  a  live  marchioness  on  board,  with  her  son 
and  attendants.  The  harbor  at  Kingstown  is  very 
fine,  and  the  coast  much  bolder  than  I  had  supposed. 
The  ride  to  Dublin,  by  rail,  was  less  than  half  an 
hour,  and,  before  dark,  we  found  ourselves  installed 
in  pleasant  rooms  at  Morrison's  Hotel.  We  have  a 
suite  upon  the  ground  floor,  opposite  Trinity  College 
Gardens. 

I  must  not  omit  to  speak  of  the  perfection  of 
travelling  arrangements,  so  far  as  we  have  proceeded. 
The  quiet,  security,  certainty  and  speed  of  the  rail 
ways,  the  comfort  of  the  carriages,  and  the  assured 
conviction  that  everything  is  coming  out  right,  in 
regard  to  yourself  and  your  luggage,  constitute  the 
perfection  of  travel.  The  railways  cross  the  public 
roads,  almost  invariably,  either  by  tunnel  below,  or 
by  bridge  above;  and  when  obliged  to  make  the 
crossing  at  the  same  grade,  stout  gates  of  timber 
secure  the  track  from  the  highway  until  the  train  has 
passed.  Officials  are,  every  where,  conspicuously 
marked,  and  their  quiet,  respectful  demeanor,  as  well 


WAYSIDE     SKETCHES. 

as  that  of  servants  universally,  constitutes  a  respec 
tability  of  rank,  worthy  of  imitation  by  their  coun 
terparts  on  this  side  the  water.  One  yields  an 
immediate  respect  to  the  scrupulous  maintenance  of 
position,  as  well  in  the  lower  orders  of  society  as 
in  the  higher,  which  is  never  rendered  to  the  univer 
sal  assumption  of  equality,  whatever  may  be  one's 
theory  upon  the  subject. 

The  quiet  of  the  railways  contrasts  strongly  with 
our  own.     The  ringings  and  snortings  are  all  lacking ; 
the  notice  to  the  engineer  is  a  small  whistle  worn 
upon  the  neck  of  the  conductor ;  there  are  no  plat 
forms  to   tempt  careless   passengers,    and   you   are 
securely  locked  into  the  carriages  between  the  sta 
tions.     The  guard  unlocks  the  door  at  each  station 
where  there  is  sufficient  pause,  and  relocks  it  before 
starting.     The  charges,   both  of  travel  and  service, 
are  enormous,  but,  taking  them  for  granted  once  for 
all,  nothing  can  be  more  comfortable  than  the  whole 
system.     The  cars  are  divided  into  three  compart 
ments,  each  containing   two   rows   of  seats  placed 
vis-a-vis.     The  first  class  carriages  are  arranged  with 
three  arm  chairs,  luxuriously  cushioned  from  top  to 
bottom.     The   second   class   have   undivided   seats, 
cushioned  with  hair,  with  a  narrow  cushion  for  the 
shoulders,    while   the   third   class   seats   are  simple 
benches.     The  difference  in  price  is  very  consider 
able. 

Aug.  6.     The  change  from  an  English  terminus 
to  an   Irish  one  is  striking.     Instead  of  the  sleek 


WAYSIDE     SKETCHES.  39 

horses,  and  the  precise  liveried  coachmen,  awaiting 
your  orders  in  respectful  silence,  or  in  the  well-bred 
undertone  which  characterizes  English  servants,  we 
found  a  tangled  crowd  of  ragged  drivers,  tugging  at 
their  lean  horses,  and  vociferating  at  the  top  of  their 
voices;  a  tattered  coat  seeming  to  form  no  bar  to 
respectability.  And  then  the  vehicles !  It  is  worth 
while  to  ride  once,  and  only  once,  in  a  jaunting  car. 
In  appearance  it  bears  a  strong  resemblance  to  a 
resuscitated  fossil  of  the  age  when  the  bird  began  to 
struggle  with  the  reptilian  quadruped,  the  Pterodac 
tyl,  for  instance.  It  is  a  two-wheeled  vehicle  for  one 
horse  ;  the  body  formed  of  a  long  narrow  box,  cov 
ered  with  a  cushion  and  running  longitudinally.  On 
each  side  of  this  spine  runs  a  narrow  seat,  for  two  or 
more  persons,  sitting  back  to  back ;  and  from  the 
seat  depends  a  step  by  a  hinge,  precisely  like  the 
open  cover  of  a  box.  These,  when  unoccupied,  are 
turned  back  over  the  seat.  If  there  be  but  one  pas 
senger,  the  driver  sits  upon  the  opposite  side,  to  trim 
the  craft ;  but  if  it  be  properly  balanced,  he  occupies 
a  high  seat  in  front.  The  whole  affair  has  a  most 
ludicrous,  disreputable  effect;  and  to  see  these 
machines  scouring  the  country,  filled  with  _men, 
women,  and  children,  looks,  to  the  unpractised  eye, 
as  if  the  world  were  holding  high  carnival,  and 
every  body  were  out  on  a  masquerade.  The  sitter  is 
exposed  to  the  mud,  to  contact,  and  to  the  elements ; 
and  if  one  is  not  fortunate  enough  to  be  supplied 
with  shawl  or  blanket  for  the  feet,  the  position  is 


40  WAYSIDE     SKETCHES. 

eminently  favorable  to  the  display  of  crinoline.  The 
carriage  affords  an  excellent  view  of  the  country, 
but  the  lateral,  insecure  motion  is  very  fatiguing. 

We  have  been  exploring  this  handsome  town. 
Except  that  it  is  not  rectangular,  it  has  much 
the  effect  of  Philadelphia,  although  more  elegant. 
We  have  been  to  some  of  the  gay  shops,  have 
visited  St.  Patrick's  Cathedral,  and  the  Castle,  and 
have  driven  about  Phenix  Park,  and  the  princi 
pal  streets.  The  moist  climate  has  shed  its  dewy 
blessings  upon  us,  in  every  form,  up  to  a  pouring 
rain ;  and  we  have  performed  our  explorations,  like 
our  neighbors,  in  a  jaunting  car — amusing  ourselves 
with  speculations  as  to  the  probable  effect  of  such 
an  apparition  in  the  Central  Park  or  in  Delaware 
Avenue. 

St.  Patrick's,  the  church  of  Dean  Swift,  is  a  fine 
old  cathedral,  now  undergoing  the  process  of  repair, 
through  the  liberality  of  a  wealthy  brewer,  of  Dub 
lin,  named  Guinness,  who  devoted  forty  thousand 
pounds  to  the  work.  We  saw  the  Dean's  old  pulpit, 
and  his  tornb,  and  that  also  of  Stella  —  "only  a 
woman's  "  grave.  A  ragged  jacket  seems  to  be  the 
most  readily  recognized  coat  of  arms  in  this  shiftless 
land.  The  intelligent  guide,  who  accompanied  us 
through  the  cathedral,  and  translated  Latin  inscrip 
tions,  was  ragged ;  and  the  crowd  of  ragged  beggars, 
men,  women,  and  children,  that  throng  the  public 
entrances  and  thoroughfares,  was  painful  to  Ameri 
can  eyes. 


WAYSIDE     SKETCHES.  41 

The  chapel  in  Dublin  Castle,  the  residence  of  the 
Lord  Lieutenant,  is  very  fine.  It  is  adorned  with 
the  armorial  bearings  of  the  Lords  Lieutenant,  from 
the  eleventh  century,  carved  in  Irish  oak.  Nothing 
can  be  more  beautiful  of  its  kind.  The  chapel  is 
very  ancient,  and  a  part  of  the  original  window  still 
remains,  much  more  beautiful  than  its  modern  sup 
plement.  The  present  vicegerent,  Lord  Carlisle,  in 
renovating  the  chapel,  has,  with  an  unaccountable 
taste,  sustituted  a  handsome  white  stone  pulpit  for 
the  old  dark  oaken  one.  It  contrasts  harshly  with 
the  rich,  dark  uniformity  of  the  rest  of  the  building. 
The  State  apartments  of  the  Castle  are  not  at  all 
magnificent,  but  the  private  rooms  wear  a  cosy, 
habitable  air,  and  look  out  upon  pleasant  gardens. 

.  Phenix  Park  is  a  handsome  drive,  and  contains, 
among  other  things,  a  noticeable  monument  to  the 
Duke  of  Wellington.  Sackville  Street,  adorned 
with  a  statue  of  Kelson,  is  a  splendid  street.  The 
city  abounds  [in  handsome  buildings.  The  river, 
whi£h  bears  the  pretty  name  of  Anna  Liffey,  runs 
through  the  middle  of  the  city,  bordered  by  walls 
and  crossed  by  bridges  of  superb  masonry. 

This  masonry  of  the  Old  World  is,  to  me,  a  source 
of  continual  admiration.  From  the  structure  of  a 
palace  to  the  wall  by  the  roadside  in  some  far  away 
rural  nook,  each  is  perfect  of  its  kind,  and  evidently 
built  to  last.  The  impression  which  every  thing 
leaves  upon  the  mind  is  that  of  enduring,  or  rather 
perduring  stability.  A  transcript,  perhaps,  of  the 


42  WAYSIDE     SKETCHES. 

noble  constitution,  which,  out  of  all  the  changes  and 
chances  of  ages,  has  sifted  the  elements  of  stability, 
and  can  afford  to  await  the  slow  growth  of  perfection 
—  that  plant  of  no  mushroom  birth  —  which  must 
develop,  like  the  acorn,  by  slow  and  patient  growth, 
into  the  fulness  of  its  grandeur. 

Aug.  8.  At  Belfast,  the  Yankeedom  of  Ireland, 
By  way  of  keeping  a  prudent  resolution,  formed 
before  leaving  home,  to  husband  my  exertions  for 
extraordinary  occasions,  I  have  seen  nothing  of  Bel 
fast,  except  the  pretty  green  gardens  directly  before 
the  windows  of  our  pleasant  rooms.  I  propose  to 
content  myself  with  my  present  knowledge  of  man 
ufactures  and  busy  streets,  and  reserve  my  limited 
strength  for  that  which  belongs  distinctively  to  the 
Old  World.  I  should  judge  that  this  part  of  Ireland 
possesses  more  Scotch  than  Irish  features,  especially 
as  regards  its  industrial  characteristics. 

Eeturned  to  Belfast,  after  a  visit  to  the  Giant's 
Causeway.  The  railway  passes,  by  way  of  Antrim 
and  Coleraine,  to  Port  Eush,  through  a  trim,  thrifty 
looking  country;  the  fields  carefully  kept,  and  the 
cottages  neat  and  precisely  thatched.  I  confess  that 
the  air  of  tidiness  which  pervaded  the  whole  region 
surprised  me.  I  could  fancy  that  the  cottages  were 
more  picturesque  as  objects  of  the  landscape,  than 
comfortable  as  habitations ;  but  they  had  decidedly 
an  advantage  in  appearance  over  any  other  Irish 
abodes,  of  the  same  class,  that  one  sees  at  home.  I 
had  occasion  to  enter  one  of  the  neat,  white,  stone 


WAYSIDE     SKETCHES.  43 

cottages  near  the  Causeway,  and  the  utter  destitution 
of  all  that  belongs  to  our  idea  of  comfort,  was 
depressing ;  the  geological  specimens  which  I  was 
taken  to  inspect,  being  almost  the  only  moveables  in 
the  cabin. 

At  Port  Eush,  a  small  trading  town  upon  the 
northern  coast,  we  took  a  jaunting  car  for  a  drive  of 
eight  or  nine  miles,  to  the  Causeway.  The  country 
is  wild  in  the  extreme.  Bold,  black  headlands  jut 
out  into  the  broad  ocean,  and  underneath  them  the 
waves  have  worn  great  caverns  and  arches.  On  one 
of  the  most  projecting  of  these  promontories,  stand 
the  ruins  of  Dunluce  Castle,  occupied  as  late  as  the 
sixteenth  century.  The  Castle  is  upon  an  island, 
close  to  the  main  land,  with  which  it  is  connected  by 
a  bridge,  still  standing. 

The  road  wound  along  the  immediate  coast,  with  a 
grand  ocean  view  for  about  half  the  distance  to  the 
Causeway  ;  then  struck  off  across  the  country,  to  a 
small  thriving  village,  called  Bush  Mills,  where 
commences  the  ascent  to  the  great  headland.  Here 
began  a  line  of  guides,  beggars,  and  peddlers  of  curi 
osities,  marvellous  to  behold.  They  lay  in  wait 
under  the  hedge,  they  lurked  in  the  lanes ;  the  most 
innocent  pedestrian  became  suddenly  transformed,  at 
your  approach,  into  a  merchant  of  canes,  stones,  or 
plumes ;  or,  more  frequently,  into  a  guide,  possessed 
of  invaluable  information,  and  of  recommendations 
from  innumerable  travellers.  It  frets  one  into  a 
fever,  that  we  cannot  surrender  ourselves  for  a 


44  WAYSIDE     SKETCHES. 

moment  to  the  influence  of  scenes  which  are  the 
realization  of  lifelong  dreams,  without  being  dragged 
down  by  pitiful,  perpetual  mendicity.  And,  to  one 
accustomed  to  see  men  and  women  earning  their 
living  by  the  sweat  of  their  brow,  it  is  unspeakably 
disgusting  to  see  shoals  of  broad-shouldered,  strong- 
armed  people,  hanging  upon  the  steps  of  travellers, 
for  the  mere  chance  of  a  stray  sixpence;  and,  at 
every  new  beauty  in  the  wonders  of  creation,  to  be 
met  by  a  demand  for  a  shilling.  The  rapacity  of 
guides,  drivers,  and  boatmen,  is  a  matter  of  estab 
lished  prestige,  and  unavoidable;  but  that  is  the 
utmost  limit  of  American  patience,  and  it  is  intense 
ly  provoking  to  find  daguerreotyped  into  such  a 
scene  as  the  Giant's  Causeway,  the  unfailing  beggar. 
The  termination  of  the  land  route,  is  a  hotel  at  the 
summit  of  the  Causeway,  whence  a  steep  footpath 
leads  down  to  the  sea  ;  for  it  is  only  by  rowing  out 
to  a  considerable  distance  into  the  ocean,  that  we  can 
obtain  a  view  of  this  wonder  of  Nature. 

Here  we  embarked,  with  a  guide,  in  a  boat  manned 
by  five  oarsmen.  The  first  visit  was  to  the  caves, 
for  which  the  day  was  unusually  propitious.  A 
fresh,  strong  breeze  came  in  from  the  broad  ocean, 
and  helped  to  fan  trie  enthusiasm  with  which  we  rode 
out  upon  the  great  waves  into  the  grandeur  of  this 
storm-worn  coast. 

We  entered  first  the  smaller  cavern  of  Port  Coon  ; 
no  soft  limestone  cave,  worn  out  by  the  incessant 
"  war  of  wave  and  rock,"  but  a  solid  vault,  arched 


WAYSIDE     SKETCHES.  45 

by  the  upheaval  of  the  foundations  of  the  everlast 
ing  hills.  The  fine,  clean,  compact  grain  of  the 
primitive  rock,  brings  up  with  it  from  the  fiery 
bowels  of  the  earth  an  indubitable  record  of  its  ori 
gin.  And  what  imagination  can  picture  the  convul 
sion  which  shot  upward  these  molten  masses  to 
harden  in  black  caverns  and  majestic  hills.  The 
depth  of  this  cave,  if  I  rightly  remember,  is  three 
hundred  feet  — the  height  of  the  arch  about  sixty  ; 
and  the  clear,  glittering  water  disclosed,  at  the  depth 
of  sixteen  feet,  innumerable  blocks  of  the  same 
smooth  black  mass  as  walled  the  sides. 

The  mighty  surge,  that  forever  sweeps  these  depths, 
leaves  neither  weed  nor  leaf  upon  these  sharp  crags, 
save  where,  here  and  there,  high  up  in  the  vault,  a 
solitary  fern  waves  defiance  to  the  longing  eye. 

The  grand  cavern  of  Dunkerry  defies  description. 
It  stretches  away  six  hundred  feet  into  the  face  of  the 
rock.  On  one  side  jut  out  the  square,  sharp  masses 
of  trapdyke,  and  on  the  other  rise  the  grand  basaltic 
columns  of  the  Causeway,  blending  in  grotesque 
fusion,  at  an  immense  height,  in  the  vault  above. 
Here  is  still  the  same  strangely  clear,  glittering 
depth  of  water,  paved  underneath  with  huge  frag 
ments  of  the  combined  formation  above;  and  a 
shout  rings  back  from  the  cavernous  deep,  with  a 
boom  that  makes  one  long  to  hear  the  roar  when  a 
tempest  lashes  the  ocean  into  these  subterranean 
recesses.  We  rode  out  again  with  a  fresh  sense  of 
awe,  into  the  sunlight,  over  the  glorious  waves,  to 


46  WAYSIDE     SKETCHES. 

the  front  of  the  headland,  where  stand  the  stately 
wonderful  columns,  which  the  pictures  call  the 
Giant's  Causeway. 

The  formation  is  triple  —  trap,  red  sandstone,  and 
basalt ;  the  columnar  structure  is  usually  vertical, 
but  sometimes  horizontal.  It  is  necessarily  viewed 
at  a  great  distance,  and  it  must  require  long  practice 
to  appreciate  the  real  height.  Different  spots  upon 
the  cliffs  are  variously  named,  from  real  or  fancied 
resemblances ;  such  as  The  Devil's  Organ,  The 
Chimney,  The  Pulpit,  The  Devil's  Thumb,  The 
Unshaved  Jew,  &c.  Off  what  is  called  the  Spanish 
headland,  was  wrecked  the  flag-ship  of  the  Spanish 
Armada,  having  mistaken  that  point  for  the  Castle 
of  Dunluce.  A  wild,  inhospitable  shore,  indeed, 
must  this  prove  to  the  hapless  vessel,  driven  before  a 
northern  gale. 

But  grand  as  is  the  aspect  of  the  columnar  head 
land,  the  Causeway  itself,  over  which,  even  not  being 
giants,  we  may  walk,  is  the  object  of  more  curious 
remark.  Here  stand  the  huge  up-forced  masses, 
closely  fitted  to  each  other,  yet  perfectly  distinct,  of 
various  shapes,  square,  rhomboidal,  pentagonal,  hex 
agonal  ;  each  side  sharp  and  clear  as  if  hewn  and 
polished  by  human  hands.  Not  in  solid  column, 
but  in  joints  of  various  lengths  ;  always  fitting  upon 
each  other  with  a  convex  and  a  concave  surface, 
easily  detached  by  the  blow  of  a  hammer.  And  as 
we  tread  the  majestic  mosaic,  the  same  thought  is 
ever  present ;  what  mighty  throes  must  have  torn 


WAYSIDE     SKETCHES.  4:7 

the  bowels  of  the  ancient  earth,  to  have  forced  these 
fiery  streams  to  the  upper  air.  Nor  can  we  fail  to 
read  here  the  record  inscribed  by  the  finger  of  the 
eternal  God,  of  the  unity  of  His  laws,  which  govern 
alike  the  spheres  and  the  dew  drop. 

The  path  of  our  return  lay  sharply  up  the  breezy 
verge  of  the  cliff,  swept  by  the  strong,  inspiriting 
breath  of  the  ocean ;  the  steep  wayside  plentifully 
sprinkled  with  purple  gorse,  and  bluebells,  and  - 
beggars. 

After  sundry  sound  and  salutary  admonitions 
from  one  of  my  indignant  companions  to  the  greedy, 
but  good-natured  crew,  we  set  out  upon  our  home 
ward  way,  in  a  drizzling  rain,  and  reached  Port 
Hush  too  late  and  too  tired  for  a  return  to  Belfast, 
The  little  town  commands  a  beautiful  view  of  the 
wide  sweep  of  the  bay,  bounded  by  the  Causeway, 
whose  '  prominent  features  are  distinctly  visible, 
frowning  in  solemn  grandeur  upon  the  storm-beaten 
coast.  We  took  up  comfortable  quarters  at  the 
wild  little  port.  I  have  no  where  felt  such  a  reality 
of  remoteness  from  the  Western  World,  as  in  this 
distant  outlook  towards  the  icy  seas,  from  the 
extremity  of  Northern  Ireland. 


48  WAYSIDE     SKETCHES. 


M^H AFTER   III. 

SCOTLAND. 

Glasgow  —  The  Clyde  —  Loch  Long  —  Loch  Lomond  —  Ben  Lomond — Loch 
Katrine  —  Loch  Achray  —  Stirling  —  Edinburgh  —  Abbottsford  —  Melrose— 
Dryburgh. 

GLASGOW,  in  bed.  An  inglorious  termination  to 
so  much  bewildering  enjoyment.  The  climb  at  the 
Causeway,  and  a  slight  fall  received  while  embark 
ing  on  board  the  steamer  from  Belfast  to  Glasgow, 
have  combined  to  remind  me  of  my  physical  disa 
bilities,  and  I  am  doing  penance,  in  consequence.  I 
take  for  granted,  on  the  authority  of  my  friends, 
that  Glasgow  is  a  beautiful  city,  containing  a  fine 
cathedral,  the  only  one  spared  by  the  Keformation. 
The  stately  arches,  once  resonant  with  ave  and  pater 
noster,  now  ring  to  the  music  of  the  precentor,  and 
the  prayers  of  the  Kirk. 

I  have  been  also  obliged  to  deny  myself  the 
pleasure  which  my  friends  are  enjoying,  of  a  trip  to 
Ayr,  the  birth-place  of  Burns,  and  to  summon  all 
my  strength  for  that  El  Dorado  of  my  lifelong  ro 
mance,  Loch  Katrine  and  the  Trosachs. 

Aug.  11.  Since  writing  the  above,  have  grown 
better,  and  by  way  of  amusement,  have  taken  an 


WAYSIDE     SKETCHES.  49 

open  carriage  and  driven  about  this  beautiful  city, 
up  and  down  its  steep  streets,  through  the  delightful 
Park;  and  have  visited  the  cathedral.  I  think  I 
have  never  seen  so  beautiful  a  city.  The  more  ele 
gant  residences  are  upon  a  high  elevation  above  the 
old  city,  with  gardens  in  front  which  we  should  call 
small  parks.  The  various  rows  are  called  Crescents, 
although  to  many  of  them  the  crescent  shape  is 
lacking.  The  West  End  Park  is  a  very  fine  one,  the 
very  ideal  of  an  available  park  for  such  a  town.  Its 
natural  position  admits  of  great  variety  of  hill,  val 
ley,  plain  and  stream,  and  art  has  improved  it  to  the 
utmost. 

I  have  heard  of  moss  grown  streets,  but  I  never 
saw  them  before.  Up  some  of  these  steep  streets 
the  moss  covers  the  entire  pavement,  and  some  of 
the  terraces  are  reached  by  flights  of  stone  steps. 
The  streets  are  scrupulously  clean,  beautifully  paved, 
and  abound  in  statues.  A  tall  column,  with  a  statue 
of  Sir  Walter  Scott,  stands  in  a  small  park,  in  front 
of  our  hotel,  another  to  Sir  John  Moore,  and  a  third 
to  Watt.  An  equestrian  statue  of  Queen  Victoria, 
and  one  of  the  Duke  of  Wellington,  embellish  the 
neighboring  square. 

Glasgow  abounds  in  handsome  churches,  among 
which  the  cathedral  is,  of  course,  the  most  worthy  of 
notice.  It  is,  indeed,  of  remarkable  beauty.  The 
Choir,  with  the  Lady  Chapel,  and  Chapter  House, 
dates  back  to  A.  D.  1170 ;  the  nave  is  later.  The 
crypts  are  the  most  noticeable  part  of  the  edifice,  and 


50  WAYSIDE     SKETCHES. 

are  said  to  be  the  finest  in  Europe.  Crypts  usually 
suggest  the  idea  of  cellar,  or  place  of  provisions ; 
these,  on  the  contrary,  are  nearly  level  with  the 
ground,  and  are  finished  with  the  care  and  ornamen 
tation  of  a  church.  One  of  them  in  particular, 
dating,  I  think,  from  1480,  by  Archbishop  Blackader, 
is  more  beautiful  than  most  of  our  churches.  These 
crypts  have  all  been  undoubtedly  used  as  places  of 
worship.  They  are  now  filled  with  memorial  tablets, 
some  of  very  recent  date,  although  interments  in  the 
vaults  have  ceased.  Among  the  monuments,  one 
very  beautiful  bronze  erection  is  to  an  officer,  who 
fell  in  the  recent  difficulties  with  China,  and  another 
marks  the  resting  place  of  Edward  Irving.  The 
stained  windows  are  all  memorial.  Near  the  centre 
of  the  crypts,  under  the  present  pulpit,  is  a  small 
elaborate  chapel,  which,  until  recently,  contained  the 
shrine  of  St.  Mungo,  an  ancient  patron  saint  of  the 
cathedral.  Near  by,  are  two  sarcophagi,  containing 
the  remains  of  some  forgotten  dignitaries,  who  need 
not  to  have  taken  such  pains  with  a  resting-place, 
which  should  long  outlast  the  memory  of  its  occu 
pants.  The  whole  edifice  is  in  perfect  preservation, 
as  if  it  were  but  a  quarter  of  a  century  old,  and  bids 
fair  to  last  a  thousand  years  longer. 

The  grounds  around  the  cathedral  are  filled  with 
monumental  slabs,  and  immediately  beyond  lies  the 
Necropolis,  upon  a  high  hill  overlooking  the  city ;  a 
cemetery  surpassing  any  thing  of  the  kind  within  my 
knowledge.  A  colossal  statue  of  the  great  Scottish 


WAYSIDE     SKETCHES.  51 

reformer,  John  Knox,  crowns  the  eminence,  standing 
upon  a  tall  pillar,  which  serves  as  pedestal.  His 
face  and  attitude,  as  he  looks  down  upon  the  busy 
city,  could  never  be  mistaken  by  one  who  had  either 
seen  his  pictures,  or  learned  his  history. 

Aug  12.  In  leaving  Glasgow  for  the  Highlands, 
we  eschewed  railways,  and  sailed  down  the  busy 
Clyde,  lined,  for  long  miles,- with  marine  fabrications 
in  various  stages  of  progress ;  constructions  both  for 
peace  and  war,  and  suggestive  in  the  present  position 
of  affairs,  of  sundry  possibilities  as  to  the  wherea 
bouts  of  their  debut  into  active  service.  The  adver 
tisement  of  a  Clyde-built  ship,  will  have  a  new  set 
of  associations  for  me  in  future.  About  ten  miles 
from  Glasgow  we  passed  a  beautiful  estate,  the  seat 
of  Lord  Blantyre.  Dumbarton  Castle,  the  scene  of 
much  romantic  interest  and  historic  note,  the  great 
Scottish  stronghold,  and  the  place  where  Wallace 
was  betrayed  to  the  English,  stands  in  ruins  upon  a 
bold,  bare  promontory  ;  the  ivied  walls  so  mingling 
with  the  native  rock,  that  they  are  not  every  where 
easy  to  distinguish.  A  modern  building  at  the  base 
of  the  old  fortification,  still  serves  as  a  fort  for  a  gar 
rison.  The  commandant  chanced  to  come  on  board 
the  steamer,  and  gave  us,  very  courteously,  much 
information  in  regard  to  the  interesting  localities  of 
the  shore.  Within  the  space  enclosed  by  the  old 
ramparts,  stands  a  tall  monument  to  the  memory  of 
Henry  Bell,  master  of  the  first  steamer  on  the  Clyde. 
The  pillar  and  its  position  were  suggestive.  Here 


52  WAYSIDE     SKETCHES. 

stand  the  decaying  mementoes  of  mighty  works, 
which  were  the  exponent  of  force ;  which  represent 
no  element  of  the  human  character,  save  valorous 
attack  and  stubborn  resistance.  '  And,  little  by  little, 
even  their  memory  fades  into  the  dim  distance, 
fanned  into  occasional  freshness  by  the  pen  of  the 
poet,  or  the  brush  of  the  painter.  And  long  ere  these 
remaining  walls  shall  have  crumbled  into  dust,  little 
trace  of  the  histories  which  made  them  famous  will 
remain,  save  in  the  lore  of  the  antiquary  or  the 
poet.  But  upon,  and  far  above  the  type  of  mere 
domination,  rises  a  memorial  of  the  renovated  human 
ity,  which  seeks,  as  the  end  of  its  art,  the  benefit  of  the 
universal  race  ;  which  binds  in  one  common  interest 
the  whole  brotherhood  of  man.  No  crumbling  mon 
ument  can  bear  away  with  it  into  oblivion  the 
memory  of  such  an  invention,  for  it  has  taken  the 
wings  of  the  morning,  and  dwells  in  the  uttermost 
parts  of  the  sea. 

Another  picturesque  ruin  stands  upon  the  same 
side  of  the  Clyde,  Dumbuck  Castle,  and,  as  a  fitting 
contrast,  upon  the  opposite  side  beyond,  are  the 
beautiful  grounds  of  Lord  Glasgow.  There  are  many 
charming  places  upon  the  Clyde,  villas  and  villages, 
places  of  summer  resort  for  the  inhabitants  of  Glas 
gow.  Out  of  the  Clyde,  we  turned  into  Loch  Long, 
aptly  named,  a  long  reach  of  water,  running  many 
miles  into  the  country,  and  almost  meeting  Loch  Lo 
mond.  A  small  offshoot  of  its  waters  opens  out  to  the 
westward,  named  Loch  Goil,  upon  which,  at  a  little 


WAYSIDE     SKETCHES.  53 

distance  from  the  entrance,  stand  the  ruins  of  Ullin's 
Castle,  remembered  now  only  as  the  home  of  Lord 
Ullin's  Daughter. 

The  country  grew  wilder,  and  the  mountains  more 
bare,  as  we  advanced.  One  of  the  highest  peaks, 
Ben  Arthur,  upon  the  seaward  side  of  Loch  Long, 
is  named  the  Cobbler.  Upon  the  summit  crouches 
a  figure  in  precisely  the  attitude  of  a  cobbler,  at  his 
bench.  Opposite  the  votary  of  St.  Crispin,  and  in 
vast  disproportion,  sits  his  wife,  represented  by  a 
gigantic  head  covered  with  a  hood.  It  is  more  than 
possible  that  the  poor  fellow  may  have  been  dwarfed 
by  his  vocation ;  but  what  he  lacks  in  size  is  amply 
compensated  by  his  conspicuous  position.  In  all  the 
windings  of  all  the  l&chs,  the  Cobbler  is  sure  to  prer 
sent  himself  in  the  most  obtrusive  manner. 

At  the  head  of  the  loch,  lies  Arrochar,  the  landing 
for  Loch  Lomond ;  and  thence  we  drove  by  coach  a 
few  miles  over  a  sweet,  lone,  bowery  road,  to  Tarbet, 
near  the  head  of  Loch  Lomond.  Like  all  the  land 
ings  on  the  lakes,  it  is  beautiful ;  but  its  beauty  has 
more  the  charm  of  cultivation  than  the  native  pictu- 
resqueness  of  its  opposite  neighbors. 

The  places  upon  the  lake  of  which  I  speak,  are 
represented  by  one  dwelling,  the  hotel.  Whether 
the  name  applies  to  the  house  only,  I  do  not  know ; 
perhaps  other  dwellings,  concealed  by  the  woods, 
may  go  to  make  up  a  proper  village. 

We  took  for  granted  the  hole  in  the  rock,  down 
which  Rob  Roy  is  said  to  have  let  his  unlucky  pris- 


54  WAYSIDE     SKETCHES. 

oners,  while  he  made  advantageous  terms  for  himself; 
and  steamed  down  to  the  eastern  shore,  to  one  of  the 
sweetest  nooks  to  be  found  by  tourist  in  any  land, 
Eowardennan.  The  hotel  lies  at  the  foot  of  Ben 
Lomond  ;  a  neat,  quiet  house,  kept  by  a  canny  Scot 
named  Andrew  Blair,  a  shrewd,  good  old  man, 
whose  locks  had  whitened  in  this  tranquil  home ; 
but  who  had  learned  the  language  of  one  distant 
land,  even  the  Eternal  City,  towards  which  he  is 
travelling.  His  stalwart  son  seemed  ready  to  take 
up  the  same  restful  life.  And,  indeed,  it  did  not 
seem  difficult  to  lay  down  the  fever  of  life  at  the 
foot  of  that  solemn  mountain,  by  the  calm  waters  of 
that  tranquil  lake.  We  were  too  late  to  obtain 
ponies  for  the  ascent  of  the  mountain,  so  the  young 
gentlemen  temporarily  attached  to  our  party,  went 
up  on  foot,  and  we  of  the  elders  strolled  about 
among  the  heathery  hillocks,  and  betook  ourselves 
to  an  early  rest,  for  the  early  waking  on  the  morrow. 

Aug.  13.  The  morning  dawned  upon  the  love 
liest  day  I  ever  knew.  We  were  wakened  at  four 
o'clock,  and  at  five  were  in  the  saddle.  We  had 
three  stout  Highland  ponies,  and  a  guide. 

The  grand  old  mountain  looked  brown  and  bare, 
but  very  smooth  and  accessible ;  and  was  far  from 
appearing  at  the  distance  of  nearly  six  miles,  which 
is  his  reputed  distance  by  the  pathway.  He  is  three 
thousand  one  hundred  and  ninety  feet  above  the 
level  of  the  sea. 

The  atmosphere  was  pure  ether,  a  bespoken  day, 


WAYSIDE     SKETCHES.  55 

sweet,  and  mild,  and  still ;  and  "  right  up  Ben  Lo 
mond  "  did  we  press  for  a  mile  or  two,  before  the  sun 
burst  over  the  hills,  and  completed  the  glory  of  the 
day.  Not  a  breath  of  mist  clung  to  the  mountain, 
nor  dimmed  the  charming  views,  gradually  disclosed 
as  we  ascended.  The  path  grew  steeper  and  more 
stony,  and  the  smooth  face  of  the  mountain  opened 
in  craggy  furrows ;  and  still  each  new  turn  of  the 
winding  way  brought  to  light  some  new  scene  of 
grandeur  or  beauty.  But  there  came  a  point  of 
climbing  which  left  little  leisure  for  gazing.  There 
was  nothing  for  it,  but  to  take  the  mountain  by 
storm,  and  at  a  sharper  angle  than  I  had  ever  seen 
accomplished  by  quadruped  before. 

One  of  my  companions  becoming  much  exhausted 
by  the  continuous  fatigue  of  the  ascent,  the  party 
lingered  behind  to  rest,  and  I  rode  on,  a  mile  or  two 
in  advance,  exercising  great  faith  in  the  path  and  the 
pony ;  when,  as  we  struggled  up  the  last  straight 
acclivity,  the  pony,  evidently  trained  to  the  spot, 
rounded  the  shoulder  of  the  mountain,  and  stood 
still,  upon  a  verge  that  chilled  my  blood,  and  hushed 
my  breath. 

Just  at  my  feet,  struck  down  a  sheer  depth  of  at 
least  three  hundred  fathoms.  In  the  valley  at  the 
bottom,  lay  the  Forth,  twined  like  a  silver  band 
among  the  'emerald  meadows  and  the  purple  moors. 
Beyond  the  nearer  peaks,  as  it  seemed  but  a  stone's 
throw,  slept  Loch  Ard  ;  and"  among  the  countless 
hills,  shone  little  lakes,  like  crystal  pools.  On 


56  WAYSIDE     SKETCHES. 

the  other  side,  I  seemed  to  overhang  the  little  green 
spot  of  Rowardennan,  and  as  for  my  companions, 
the  path  was  far  too  precipitous  to  catch  even  a 
glimpse  of  them.  I  never  felt  before  the  deadly 
awe  of  utter  solitude.  The  lonely  grandeur  of  the 
scene  grew  too  oppressive,  and  I  gazed  up  the  slender 
line  which  marked  the  path  to  the  solitary  summit, 
with  a  nervous  shiver  which  I  strove  in  vain  to  quell. 
I  could  see  plainly  that  there  was  not  a  foot  of  dan 
ger  upon  the  way,  but  reason  was  not,  just  then,  in 
the  ascendant ;  and  the  welcome  sight  of  horse  and 
horseman  appearing  above  the  rocky  shelf,  sent  the 
blood  jfco  my  heart,  with  a  revulsion  which  nearly 
deprived  me  of  the  little  strength  which  the  terror 
of  that  scene  of  awe  had  left  me. 

However,  we  reached  the  summit  in  safety.  In 
deed,  there  is  no  part  of  the  ascent  at  all  perilous ; 
it  is  only  toilsome ;  and  even  in  that  respect,  I  pre 
sume,  it  compares  favorably  with  most  other  moun 
tain  excursions.  For  a  good  pedestrian,  walking  is 
easier  than  riding.  The  bridle  path  is  narrow,  stony 
and  tortuous,  as  if  it  followed  the  bed  which  wintry 
torrents  have  worn  deep  below  the  surrounding 
surface. 

The  top  of  the  mountain  is  a  bare,  wind-swept 
plateau  of  a  few  yards  in  extent,  but  it  is  the  point 
of  vision  for  such  an  amphitheatre  as  I  have  no 
power  to  describe.  The  vast  peaks  crowded  each 
other,  far  and  near ; ,  their  huge  sides  unshadowed  by 
tree  or  shrub ;  Pelion  upon  Ossa ;  the  brain  ached 


WAYSIDE     SKETCHES.  57 

with  the  mighty  thought  of  Creation.  At  the  foot, 
slept  the  purple  bosom  of  Loch  Lomond,  studded 
with  myriad  islands,  and  fringed  with  woody  head 
lands.  Here  and  there,  between  the  bristling  peaks, 
glittered  bright  lochs  ;  Edinburgh  lay  in  the  distance, 
and  the  Clyde  spread  its  broad  waters  to  the  sun. 
The  silver  mists  of  morning  rolled  up  the  sides  of 
the  distant  hills,  giving  a  softened  charm  to  the 
landscape,  but  not  a  shade  dimmed  the  near  vision. 
Language  may  recall,  but  can  never  express  the 
emotions  of  that  morning. 

The  descent,  after  the  first  ruggedness  was  past, 
was  far  easier  than  the  climb.  The  eye  rested,  with 
out  effort,  upon  the  constantly  varying  scene,  and 
pictured  it  to  the  memory  forever.  And,  as  I  rode 
down  into  the  sheltered  valley,  where  the  heather 
was  glowing  in  the  soft  light  of  an  October  sun,  and 
the  Loch  lay  like  a  breathless  mirror,  reflecting  the 
feathery  banks  and  the  mighty  hills,  and  the  solemn 
mountain  lifted  its  bald  head  to  the  blue  heaven,  the 
intense  beauty  of  the  earth  fell  like  a  hush  upon 
my  heart,  and  Nature  seemed  to  have  gathered  all 
the  weary  children  of  care  to  her  quiet  bosom,  and 
to  have  soothed  them  to  the  rest  of  peace  and  love. 

The  excitement  of  the  morning  was  too  great  for 
any  indoor  rest,  and  we  strayed  along  the  quiet  paths 
at  the  foot  of  the  mountain,  and  sat  upon  the  shel 
tered  banks,  and  listened  to  the  whisper  of  the 
ripples  upon  the  white  pebbles  of  the  beach,  and 
drank  in  the  reality  of  our  enjoyment,  until  the 


58  WAYSIDE     SKETCHES. 

arrival  of  the  little  steamer,  which  was  to  take  us  to 
Inversnaid,  a  bewitching  spot,  five  miles  farther  up 
the  lake.  Here,  a  wild  mountain  cataract  comes 
foaming  and  brawling  down  to  the  lake. 

At  Inversnaid  we  mounted  a  vehicle  which  has 
the  effect  of  being  a  coach,  all  top.  The  seats  are 
open  —  so  high  that  a  ladder  is  necessary  to  reach 
them,  the  luggage  being  bestowed  in  a  cavernous 
recess  beneath.  It  is  an  admirable  contrivance  where 
the  great  object  to  be  gained  is  a  good  outlook.  We 
wound  up  the  steep,  but  smooth  and  shady  road, 
and  rolled  swiftly  through  a  beautiful  glen,  beside  a 
pretty  lake,  both  glen  and  lake  being  named  Arklee. 
Upon  the  left  we  passed  a  low  stone  dwelling,  which 
is  remarkable  as  the  birth-place  of  Helen  McGregor. 
The  drive  was  short,  and  we  presently  descended  to 
Loch  Katrine,  the  fairy  cup  that  holds  a  magic 
draught  of  inspiration.  Even  as  I  write,  I  can 
scarcely  convince  myself  that  I  have  realized  my 
lifelong  romance,  and  that  Loch  Katrine  has  left  its 
abode  in  my  imagination  for  one  in  my  memory. 

It  is  a  small,  but  exquisite  lake ;  the  steamer 
makes  its  entire  circuit,  and  lands  at  the  foot  of  the 
Trosachs.  No  prose  description,  even  though  it 
were  a  surveyor's  chart,  can  give  a  more  accurate 
picture  of  the  scenery,  than  does  the  poem.  I  was 
surprised  and  charmed  to  find  the  familiar  epithets 
not  only  beautiful,  but  scrupulously  true.  Ben- 
venue,  Ben  A'an,  Ben  Ledi,  all  the  points  of  which 
we  read,  are  portrayed  with  such  fidelity  to  Nature, 


WAYSIDE     SKETCHES.  59 

that  the  eye  catches  them  in  a  moment,  and  recog 
nizes  them  as  old  acquaintances. 

We  passed  Ellen's  Isle,  landed,  and  drove  through 
the  Trosachs  to  a  beautiful  hotel  on  the  margin  of 
Loch  Achray.  This  hotel  bears  the  euphonious  title 
of  Ardcheanochrochan.  We  were  shown  to  dinner 
in  a  rustic  hall,  covered  with  "  withered  heath  and 
rushes  dry," 

ik  While  all  around,  the  walls  to  grace, 
lluug  trophies  of  the  fight  or  chase." 

After  dinner,  we  drove  back,  and  took  a  small 
boat  and  oarsman ;  visited  Ellen's  Isle ;  saw  Coir- 
nan-uriskin,  the  pass  of  Beal'nambo,  the  pass  of  the 
battle  of  Beal  an'  Duine,  Roderic's  Watch  Tower, 
and  many  a  spot,  already  familiar  as  household 
words.  We  lingered  while 

;;  Eve,  with  western  shadows  long, 
Floated,  on  Katrine,  bright  and  strong;" 

stumbled  up  the  clambering  road,  among  the  tangled 
trees  and  shrubs,  which  led  to  the  spot  on  the  tiny 
islet  where  once  stood  a  lodge,  fashioned  after  the 
description  of  the  poet.  The  rustic  edifice  was 
destroyed  by  the  carelessness  of  some  visitor,  who 
threw  a  lighted  cigar  among  the  brushy  thicket  In 
describing  the  Goblin's  Cave,  our  rower  said  he 
believed  there  were  some  of  the  Goblins  still  remain 
ing  there,  and,  putting  his  hands  to  his  mouth,  he 
shouted  until  the  echoes  verified  their  goblin  origin. 
The  man  was  a  McGregor,  who  not  only  knew  the 


60  WAYSIDE     SKETCHES. 

Lady  of  the  Lake  by  heart,  but  felt  all  its  witchery. 
"  The  shades  of  eve  came  slowly  down,"  as  we  re 
traced  our  steps,  almost  giddy  with  pleasure. 

Loch  Achray,  "  so  lone  a  lake,  so  sweet  a  strand," 
lies  before  the  door  of  the  hotel,  and  winding  paths 
invite  to  hidden  beauties.  The  foxglove,  th6  hare 
bell,  the  heath,  the  broom,  are  all  here,  and  all  classic. 
It  has  been  the  day  of  days. 

Aug.  14.  We  strolled  about  the  mountain  paths 
until  noon,  then  took  a  carriage  for  Callender.  We 
passed  the  bridge  of  Turk  ;  along  the  lovely  lake  of 
Yennachar,  to  Coilantogle  ford ;  by  Bochastle  heath ; 
along  the  Teith ;  past  the  ruins  of  the  bannered 
towers  of  Doune ;  near  the  ruined  Cathedral,  which 
marks  the  spot  where  Jessie,  the  flower  of  Dumblane, 
once  blossomed;  and  followed  the  path  of  King 
James  straight  to  Stirling.  Dumferline  looked 
strange  upon  a  guide-board,  but  there  it  was. 

Stirling  was  a  place  of  intense  interest.  We  drove 
at  once  to  the  Castle,  and  the  same  flinty  street 
echoed  to  the  clatter  of  the  toiling  hoofs,  as  when 

"  Slowly  down  the  deep  descent, 
Fair  Scotland's  King  and  nobles  went," 

in  days  whose  every  interest  is  fast  passing  into 
oblivion.  The  ancient  Castle  had  its  origin  in  times 
whereto  the  memory  of  man  runneth  not.  Its 
towers  echoed  the  sports,  and  witnessed  the  vows  of 
the  long  line  of  Stuarts,  that  ill-fated,  misguided, 
fascinating  race.  Here  is  the  room  in  which  a 


WAYSIDE     SKETCHES.  61 

Douglass  met  his  death  by  the  hand  of  his  sover 
eign.  Here  is  the  palace  built  by  James  the  Fifth, 
and  thronged  with  "  noble  dame  and  damsel  bright," 
when  the  Scottish  court  was  in  its  prime.  Here  is 
the  turret  and  the  Franciscan  steeple,  which  the 
poet  has  linked  with  Malcolm  Graeme. 

We  were  shown  a  long,  solid,  subterranean  vault, 
in  which  were  kept  the  lions  for  the  royal  sports,  and 
the  area  into  which  they  were  let  loose,  beneath  the 
balcony  of  the  royal  spectators. 

The  Castle  is  occupied  by  the  troops  of  the  garri 
son,  and  the  long  hall  where  King  James  held  his 
court  is  not  open  to  inspection. 

It  is  with  the  exterior  of  the  Castle,  however,  that 
the  most  historic  interest  is  interwoven.  The  view 
from  the  ramparts  not  only  sweeps  a  valley  of  sur 
passing  beauty,  but  takes  in  the  mighty  Bens  in  the 
far  distance,  and  the  inferior,  but  still  lofty  ranges  of 
hills  that  lie  between.  The  memory  is  bewildered 
with  the  wealth  of  association  crowded  into  the 
scenes  beneath  the  eye,  as  one  stands  at  the  Lady's 
Lookout,  a  small  opening  in  the  northern  wall. 
Besides  the  varied  charms  of  natural  scenery,  he 
looks  down  from  that  castle  wall  upon  the  battle 
fields  of  Bannockburn,  Stirling,  Pentland  Hills,  and 
to  the  hills  which  overlook  the  field  of  Sheriff  Muir. 
Below,  is  the  Abbey  Crag,  upon  which  is  now  rising 
a  monument  to  Wallace,  the  hero  of  the  battle  of 
Stirling.  There  are  seen,  also,  the  ruins  of  Cambus- 
kenneth's  Abbey,  and  the  bloody  Heading  hill. 


62  WAYSIDE     SKETCHES. 

Under  the  wall,  winds  the  road  called  the  Ballangeich, 
by  which  the  pleasure-loving  King,  James  the  First, 
was  wont  to  make  his  unperceived  exit,  when  it 
suited  his  humor  to  put  off  the  circumstance  of  roy 
alty,  that  he  might  watch  over  insulted  laws,  "  and 
learn  to  right  the  injured  cause  "-—and,  perchance, 
to  pursue  less  exalted  aims,  if  all  tales  be  true.  The 
Castle  Park  spreads  out  to  the  south,  the  scene  of 
sport,  both  for  noble  and  yeoman ;  and  the  church 
yard  of  Greyfriars,  hard  by,  is  hallowed  by  the  dust 
of  ancient  martyrs,  and  made  picturesque  by  the 
hand  of  modern  taste.  But  it  is  hopeless  to  attempt 
to  record  all  the  features  of  interest  pertaining  to 
Stirling  Castle. 

Not  far  off  is  Linlithgow  Castle,  where  Mary  of 
Scots  was  imprisoned.  Within  the  town  are  the 
remains  of  Mar's  Work,  a  dwelling  which  Lord  Mar 
built,  in  part,  from  the  ruins  of  Cambuskenneth. 
The  failure  in  its  completion  is  attributed  to  that 
sacrilege. 

The  gray  fortress  of  the  North  bids  fair  to  outlast 
the  ravages  of  time  for  long  centuries  to  come ;  a 
key  to  unlock  the  sanctuary  of  enthusiasm,  and  a 
shrine  of  patriotism  to  the  Scottish  heart,  for  which 
I  fervently  envy  the  sturdy,  yet  romantic  race. 

Aug.  15.  Edinburgh.  We  are  established  in  a 
hotel  opposite  the  East  Gardens,  and  Sir  Walter's 
monument ;  and  in  full  view  of  the  Castle,  on  one 
side,  and  Salisbury  Crags  on  the  other.  Took  a 
carriage  and  commissioner,  this  morning,  for  a  long 


WAYSIDE     SKETCHES.  63 

day  of  sight-seeing.  Drove  first  to  Calton  Hill,  a 
high  eminence,  overlooking  the  city,  whereon  is 
rising  a  monument  to  Nelson.  An  unfinished  copy 
of  the  Parthenon,  intended  to  commemorate  the 
heroes  who  fell  at  Waterloo,  stands  like  a  ruin  upon 
the  summit,  and  a  Greek  monument  to  Professor 
Playfair,  and  another  to  Dugald  Stewart,  also  occupy 
the  hill,  which  commands  a  wide  view  of  Edinburgh 
and  its  environs,  Leith,  North  Berwick  Law,  the 
Bass  Kock,  and  the  broad  estuary  which  widens  to 
the  German  ocean. 

Edinburgh  is,  without  doubt,  a  splendid  city,  but 
one,  also,  of  great  contrasts.  One  sees  magnificent 
edifices,  surrounded  by  spacious  grounds ;  and  narrow 
wynds,  from  which  tower  up  tall  buildings  to  such  a 
height  as  to  shut  out  sunlight  and  cheerfulness  from 
the  unenviable  alleys.  In  such  a  wynd  stands  the 
house  in  which  Walter  Scott  was  born. 

John  Knoxs  house  still  stands  in  the  Canongate, 
and  a  small  window  projects  above  the  street,  from 
which  he  was  wont  to  feed  the  congregated  assembly 
below  with  his  strong  meat.  We  saw  his  pulpit, 
afterwards,  in  the  Museum  of  the  Royal  Institute. 

The  gateway  of  the  Canongate  Tolbooth,  still 
yawns  upon  the  street;  but  the  Heart  of  Mid  Lo 
thian  is  represented  only  by  a  large  stone  heart 
in  the  pavement,  where  frowned  the  old  gateway, 
battered  down  to  drag  forth  Porteus  to  his  ter 
rible  fate.  In  the  Grass  Market,  a  small  marked 
spot  in  the  paved  street  denotes  the  site  of  the  gibbet, 


64  WAYSIDE     SKETCHES. 

from  which  many  a  martyred  patriot  has  passed  to 
his  rest. 

From  the  noble  Hospitals,  the  fair  green  gardens, 
and  the  stately  monuments  which  adorn  the  modern 
city,  the  traveller  must  always  turn  with  deepest 
interest  to  Holyrood.  It  matters  little  whether  he  be 
a  partisan  or  a  denunciator  of  the  fair,  but  not  per 
fect  Queen,  there  is  the  spot  of  interest  in  Edin 
burgh. 

We  stood  within  the  ruined  walls  of  the  beautiful 
chapel — in  partial  ruin  even  when  Mary  plighted  her 
troth  to  Darnley,  beneath  the  chapel  window.  But 
in  her  own  apartments  there  is  a  tangibility,  an 
internal  evidence  of  authenticity,  such  as  does  not 
force*  itself  upon  the  conviction,  with  equal  effect, 
within  any  of  those  castled  walls,  where  nothing  but 
the  bare  masonry  presents  the  record  of  the  past. 

Here,  upon  the  threshold  trodden  by  her  youthful 
feet,  destined  to  many  a  flinty  path,  you  pause  to 
note  the  very  state  in  which  the  royalty  of  the  six 
teenth  century  was  wont  to  dwell.  There  is  the  very 
pillow,  upon  which  reposed  her  golden  head ;  the 
mirror  which  gave  back  her  lovely  face  ;  the  imple 
ments  of  handicraft  which  her  fair  fingers  employed 
to  beguile  the  weary  hours,  in  that  rigid  Northern 
home,  a  chilly  contrast  to  the  gay  court  of  France. 
There  is  the  very  closet  where  she  watched  her 
favorite  writhing  under  the  ruffian  steel.  One  can 
well  imagine  the  loathing  with  which  she  turned 
from  the  ill-timed  caresses  of  her  jealous  lord ;  for  if 


WAYSIDE     SKETCHES.  65 

she  indeed  loved  Rizzio,  her  heart  was  breaking  with 
anguish ;  and,  if  not,  it  was  filled  with  fierce  indig 
nation.  Condemn,  despise  Mary  of  Scots,  as  one 
mav — within  the  time-worn,  blood-stained  walls  of 
Holyrood,  he  remembers,  with  tearful  pity  only,  the 
beautiful  queen,  the  unhappy  woman. 

Within  the  court  of  the  palace,  is  a  beautiful  foun 
tain,  adorned  with  exquisite  sculptures,  representing 
the  various  personages  and  incidents  of  Mary's  time. 
In  the  grand  old  castle,  we  saw  the  room  in  which 
she  gave  birth  to  her  degenerate  son,  and  the  window 
through  which  he  was  let  down  by  a  basket,  to  Lord 
Murray.  Here  was  also  a  portrait  of  Mary,  differing 
somewhat  from  the  ordinary  pictures,  but,  as  I  think, 
more  attractive.  The  ancient  Castle  stands  like  a 
part  of  the  solid  rock  upon  which  it  frowns,  and 
swarms  with  soldiers,  as  it  has  done  for  hundreds 
of  years.  Customs,  and  costumes,  and  weapons, 
have  changed  ;  but,  through  them  all,  the  garrisoned 
fortress  has  come  down  from  the  depths  of  the  time 
immemorial. 

We  were  admitted  to  the  chamber  containing  the 
Regalia,  the  long-lost,  long-sought  jewels  of  the 
Crown.  Sir  Walter  Scott,  (with  what  interest  of 
Scottish  history  is  he  not  identified?)  obtained  a 
commission  to  search  for  the  missing  treasures,  and 
was  the  fortunate  discoverer  of  their  hiding  place. 
They  consist  of  the  crown,  handed  down  with  vari 
ous  additions,  and  with  all  its  thorns,  from  the  early 
to  the  Stuarts :  a  sword,  mace  and 


66  WAYSIDE     SKETCHES. 

sceptre  ;  a  splendid  chain  of  the  Order  of  the  Garter; 
a  signet  ruby  ring  valued  at  twelve  thousand  pounds ; 
a  jewel  representing  St.  George  and  the  Dragon,  set 
in  diamonds,  and  valued  at  thirty  thousand  pounds ; 
and  a  locket  containing  a  miniature  of  Anne  of 
Denmark,  worth  ten  thousand. 

The  Castle  wall,  the  fosse,  the  drawbridge,  the 
grooves  of  the  ancient  portcullis,  the  outer  rampart, 
were  all  full  of  interest.  On  the  rampart  stands 
Mons  Meg,  a  clumsy  cannon,  fabricated  in  the  fif 
teenth  century,  and  famous  in  several  battles  of  later 
date.  Its  last  exploit  was  that  of  bursting,  while 
firing  a  salute  in  honor  of  the  Duke  of  York,  in 
1682.  If  it  had  chanced  to  carry  off  His  Eoyal 
Highness,  it  might  have  deserved  well  at  the  hands 
of  the  country. 

We  were  so  fortunate  as  to  witness  the  daily  cere 
mony  of  setting  the  city  time,  which  is  performed  in 
this  wise.  Upon  the  top  of  the  unfinished  Nelson 
monument  on  Calton  Hill,  rests  a  large  ball,  which, 
shortly  before  one  o'clock,  begins  slowly  to  ascend. 
The  time  is  calculated  at  the  Observatory,  for  Green 
wich,  and  at  the  point  of  one,  the  ball  suddenly  falls, 
and  by  an  electric  wire  fires  a  cannon  upon  the 
Castle  rampart. 

We  concluded  our  day  of  exploration  with  the 
Queen's  drive,  a  fine  sweep  around  the  base  of  Salis 
bury  Crags  and  Arthur's  Seat ;  from  which  we  could 
see  the  ruins  of  Anthony's  chapel,  and  the  place  of 
Muscat's  cairn.  I  have  omitted  much  that  has 


WAYSIDE     SKETCHES.  67 

occurred  during  the  day,  but  find  it  impossible  to 
record  it  all.  We  made  an  effort  to  Hear  Dr.  Boyd 
preach,  but  found,  on  arriving  at  his  church,  that  he 
had  not  yet  returned  from  his  summer  vacation,  and 
we  went  to  St.  James',  in  York  Place.  The  service 
was  conducted  by  the  curate,  Bev.  Mr.  Montgomery, 
and  the  venerable  Bishop,  Dr.  Terrot.  Mr.  Mont 
gomery  is  a  fine  reader  and  good  preacher.  The 
service  varied  somewhat  from  our  own,  the  choir 
leading  the  responses,  and  leading,  but  not  perform 
ing,  the  singing.  We  were  not  tempted  to  seek  an 
entrance  to  Dr.  Gruthrie's  church,  as  the  reports  of 
the  crowds,  usually  in  waiting  at  the  doors,  were  dis 
couraging. 

Aug.  17.  Abbotsford  —  what  more  is  needed 
than  the  name  !  We  left  the  railway  at  Melrose, 
and  drove  through  a  pretty  country,  rolling  from  the 
Tweed  up  a  low  range  called  the  Black  Hills.  We 
alighted  at  a  close  gate,  and  entered  Abbotsford  by 
a  winding  descent  of  trim  gravel  walk,  bordered  by 
hawthorn  and  ivied  wall,  reaching  the  side  entrance 
of  a  small  hall  upon  the  ground  floor ;  whence,  after 
recording  our  names,  a  little  maid  led  us  up  a  stair 
case,  to  Sir  Walter's  study.  It  is  a  small  room,  sur 
rounded  by  book-shelves,  a  light  gallery  containing 
books  running  around  the  upper  part  of  the  room. 
At  a  plain  desk  in  the  middle  of  the  room  stood  a 
chair  cushioned  with  black  leather,  and  we  paused 
before  it,  as  in  the  presence  chamber  of  inspiration. 
Here  its  master  toiled  to  reproduce  the  conceptions 


68  WAYSIDE     SKETCHES. 

of  his  rich  imagination ;  and  here  he  faithfully 
labored,  while  giving  rein  to  his  varied  fancy,  to  be 
true  to  nature  and  to  history,  and  to  keep  pure  the 
fountains  of  poesy  and  fiction,  from  which  he  dis 
pensed  delight  to  the  world. 

In  a  tiny  room  opening  out  of  the  study,  is  his 
bust,  cast  after  his  death.  This,  his  room  of  private 
conference,  he  called  "  speak-a-bit." 

The  library  contains  objects  of  all  kinds  of  inter 
est.  A  part  of  the  furniture  is  ebony,  from  Carlton 
House,  the  gift  of  its  royal  master.  A  part,  consist 
ing  of  elaborate  Koman  work,  was  a  present  from 
the  late  Pope.  Under  a  glass  case,  lie  treasures  of 
curiosity  and  antiquity,  such  as  were  just  fitted  to 
please  his  delicate  antiquarian  taste,  along  with 
splendid  gifts  from  crowned  heads  and  distinguished 
men. 

I  wish  I  could  remember  them  all,  but  the  attend 
ant,  doubtless  weary  of  his  continual  duty  of  repeti 
tion,  was  little  disposed  to  suffer  us  to  linger  over 
objects  of  such  interest  to  us,  and  I  can  enumerate 
but  few  out  of  the  many  curiosities  there  preserved. 
There  were  golden  bees  from  the  mantle  of  Napo 
leon  ;  a  curiously  wrought  casket  which  belonged  to 
Mary  of  Guise ;  drinking  cups,  carved  out  of  rare 
woods ;  a  glass  upon  which  Burns  had  engraved  a 
verse ;  a  snuff  box  belonging  to  Balfour,  of  Burleigh ; 
Rob  Roy's  pouch,  a  Highland  dirk,  and  miniatures 
of  Scott  and  his  wife. 

His  own  genial  face  looked  kindty  down  upon  us. 


WAYSIDE     SKETCHES.  69 

from  the  wall,  beside  the  sweet  portrait  of  Lady 
Scott,  and  the  hush  of  his  presence  was  upon  us, 
while  we  moved  among  the  treasures  which  his  hand 
so  delighted  to  gather,  and  trod  the  apartments  upon 
which  he  lavished  such  wealth  of  toil  and  taste. 

We  stood  where  he  yielded  up  his  peaceful  breath 
—  worn  out,  not  with  years,  but  with  cycles  of 
thought;  where 

"  The  weary  wheel  of  life  at  length  stood  still." 

In  the  dining  room,  where  he  died,  are  many  fine 
family  portraits ;  one  of  his  son,  Walter,  particularly 
beautiful.  There  are  portraits  of  his  parents,  and  of 
his  great-grandfajher,  a  bearded  old  cavalier,  who 
forswore  shaving  until  the  King  should  "  have  his 
own  again,"  and,  in  consequence,  he  wore  the  manly 
appendage  to  his  dying  day. 

The  Armory,  a  room  filled  with  curious  and  histo 
ric  weapons,  was  Sir  Walter's  own  especial  delight. 
Among  other  things,  I  remember  Eob  Koy's  gun,  a 
fine  modern  looking  piece  of  arms ;  and  Claver- 
house's  pistols,  which  made  one  shudder  to  remember 
what  fiery  streams  of  cruelty  have  been  launched 
from  their  polished  barrels.  There  were  swords  and 
knives  of  all  descriptions.  I  remember  Mrs.  Hemans' 
exclamation  at  the  sight  of  this  room, 

"  'Twere  worth  ten  years  of  peaceful  life, 
One  glance  at  their  array." 

There  was  the  cuirass  of  James  the  Fourth,  and  relics 
of  I  know  not  how  many  scions  of  royalty.     But  the 


70  WAYSIDE     SKETCHES. 

royalty  lay,  after  all,  in  the  genius  of  the  place. 
What  has  been  our  journey  through  the  charms  of 
Scotland,  but  a  pilgrimage  to  this  shrine  !  Its  master 
was  the  priest  and  prophet  of  the  land. 

The  hall  is  the  elaborate  room  of  the  suite,  filled 
with  armor,  lined  and  ceiled  with  curious  carvings, 
partly  from  the  ancient  palace  of  Durnferline,  and 
adorned  with  the  armorial  bearings  of  the  clans  to 
which  he  has  given  an  undying  interest. 

,  We  strayed  through  the  gardens  which  he  planned ; 
saw  the  old  Tolbooth  door  built  into  the  wall  of  the 
house ;  plucked  a  few  flowers  from  the  garden,  and 
looked  our  last  upon  the  home  of  genius,  consecrated 
to  a  more  enduring  fame  than  thai?  of  the  towns  and 
castles  which  he  loved  to  celebrate. 

We  drove  along  the  road,  remembering  that  here 
were  his  daily  walks;  through  the  little  village 
where  his  face  was  once  familiar  as  household  words  ; 
and  took  our  way  along  the  base  of  the  Eildon  Hills, 
cleft  in  three  by  the  witchcraft  of  Michael  Scott,  to 
Melrose  Abbey. 

This  beautiful  ruin  is  remarkable  for  the  delicacy 
of  its  carvings — and  for  having  been  transfused  into 
poetry  by  Scott.  Under  the  chancel,  lie  the  heart  of 
Bruce,  the  remains  of  the  Black  Douglass,  of  Alex 
ander  the  Second,  and  of  Michael  Scott,  the  great  wiz 
ard,  whose  stone  effigy  stands  over  against  his  grave. 

But  vainly  did  the  cross-signed  stone  press  upon 
the  ashes  of  Michael  Scott.  When  the  dread  secrets 
of  his  sepulchre  were  laid  open,  at  the  command  of 


WAYSIDE    .SKETCHES.  71 

the  Lady  of  the  Border,  the  wizard  essence  made  its 
escape,  and  descended  upon  a  second  Merlin ;  who 
touched  with  his  plumed  wand  the  barren  heaths  and 
craggy  shelves  of  Scotland,  and  they  became  fairy 
land.  And  by  the  same  touch  he  peopled  them 
with  "  asrial  knights  and  fairy  dames." 

The  spell  of  witchery  still  lies,  as  of  yore,  in  gra- 
marye ;  and,  once  encircled  by  its  potent  charm,  the 
students  of  its  mystic  symbols  throng  the  hills  and 
moors  and  shores  of  the  enchanted  land,  and  do 
tearful  homage  in  the  halls  of  the  enchanter,  and 
bend  with  reverent  step  above  his  dust. 

The  burial  place  of  Walter  Scott  is  a  fit  resting 
place  for  a  poet.  Dryburgh  Abbey  lies  in  solemn 
quiet  among  stately  trees,  far  away  from  the  tumult 
of  the  busy  world.  We  reached  it  by  crossing  the 
Tweed  in  a  tiny  ferry  boat,  and  winding  through  a 
long,  quiet,  shady  lane,  among  green  meadows,  mel 
lowed  by  the  soft  level  light  of  the  evening  sun. 

The  Abbey  is  of  great*  extent,  and  exceedingly 
beautiful.  It  is  said  that  Gothic  architecture  takes 
its  design  from  the  forest  aisles;  in  this  case,  the 
prototype  has  resumed  its  sway.  As  you  look  up 
the  nave  from  the  main  entrance,  two  rows  of  noble 
trees  stretch  up  on  either  side ;  their  stately  stems, 
and  interlacing  boughs  well  supplying  the  lack  of 
"long  drawn  aisle  and  fretted  vault;''  while  every 
where  within  the  Abbey  precincts,  stand  huge  trees 
which  bear  unquestionable  record  to  its  great  anti 
quity.  We  were  shown  a  yew  near  the  entrance. 


72  WAYSIDE     SKETCHES. 

said  to  bear  the  same  date  with  the  Abbey.  The 
family  sepulchre  of  Scott  is  in  a  corner  of  one  of  the 
remaining  aisles,  defended  by  a  railing,  and  sheltered 
by  one  of  the  few  entire  arches  of  the  venerable  pile. 
His  wife,  his  eldest  son,  and  his  son-in-law,  rest 
beside  him.  The  Abbey  once  belonged  to  his  ances 
tors,  and  one  feels  a  peculiar  satisfaction  that  he  had 
a  right  to  a  resting  place  in  such  accordance  with  his 
own  tastes. 

We  recrossed  the  Tweed,  and  left  the  charming 
spot  with  regret. 

It  is  no  harsh  transition  from  Abbotsford  and  Dry- 
burgh,  that  we  are  sleeping  to-night  at  Penrith,  with 
in  the  domain  of  peerless  King  Arthur,  and  that 
to-morrow  we  mean  to  evoke  the  ghosts  of  the 
Eound  Table. 


WAYSIDE     SKETCHES.  73 


CHAPTER   IV. 


ENGLAND. 

Penrith  —  Ulswater  —  "Winder-mere  —  Grasmere —  Rydal  — Arnbleside  —  Lancas 
ter  —  HaTvorth  —  York  —  Chesterfield  —  Chatsworth  —  Haddon  Hall  —  Ken- 
ilworth —  Warwick —  Leamington  —  Stratford-on-Avon. 

WE  cannot  discern  k'  many-towered  Camelot,"  but 
I  thought  of  fair  Queen  Guenevere  as  we  threaded 
the  queer,  quaint,  old-world  streets  of  Penrith,  to  find 
the  Giant's  grave  ;  the  resting  place  of  what  giant  is 
left  to  conjecture.  Two  tall  stone  pillars,  tapering 
upward,  from  a  circumference  of  eleven  feet,  mark 
the  extremities  of  the  grave,  fifteen  feet  in  length. 
The  ancient  Runic  inscription  is  so  worn  by  time  as 
to  leave  only  a  fretted  surface  to  the  stone.  We 
stood  for  a  few  moments  to 

— ';  moralize  on  the  decay 
Of  human  strength  in  later  day," 

and  returned  to  the  inn,  passing  by  an  ancient 
school-house,  founded,  as  the  Latin  inscription  upon 
its  front  asserts,  by  Queen  Elizabeth. 

We  mounted  the  top  of  a  stage-coach,  which,  by 
the  way,  is  far  the  most  desirable  mode  of  viewing 
the  country,  and  a  very  agreeable  style  of  riding, 

6 


74  WAYSIDE     SKETCHES. 

and  passed  out  of  Penrith,  by  the  Castle  and  the 
Bound  Table. 

Every  foot  of  English  soil  is  the  prison  house  of 
genii,  and  every  footfall  presses  some  hidden  spring 
that  brings  the  spirits  to  the  upper  air.  Penrith 
Castle  and  the  Eourid  Table ;  within  what  a  charmed 
circle  do  these  mystical  words  enclose  us !  Within 
it  rises  the  stately  figure  of  the  peerless  King,  the 
model  of  knightly  prowess,  of  kingly  faith,  of  Chris 
tian  honor,  of  womanly  delicacy.  To  England 
belongs  the  honor  of  the  conception  of  the  purest 
ideal  of  uninspired  perfection.  I  say  honor,  for  it  is 
of  the  essence  of  national  character  that  the  ideal 
national  hero  is  created.  Yet  is  it  a  proof  of  our 
perverse  nature,  that  we  turn  with  more  tenderness 
of  interest  to  Launcelot  than  to  Arthur  ? 

A  few  miles  out  of  Penrith  is  a  cluster  of  Druid  - 
ical  stones,  called  Long  Meg  and  her  daughters;  but 
our  path  lay  in  the  opposite  direction. 

Just  out  of  our  way,  led  the  road  to  the  Yale  of  St. 
John  and  its  enchanted  castle.  I  am  glad  to  give 
local  habitation  to  the  scenes  of  the  beautiful  legend 
ary  lore  of  the  times  of  Arthur. 

The  Round  Table  is  a  green  turf  elevation  (a  com 
plete  circle)  of  about  one  hundred  yards  in  circumfer 
ence,  in  a  field  by  the  roadside. 

"We  drove  through  a  beautiful  country,  with  many 
peaks  in  the  distance,  upon  which  we  were  glad  to 
recognize,  once  more,  the  purple  heather,  down  to 
the  lovely  lake  of  Ulswater,  where  a  little  steamer 


WAYSIDE     SKETCHES.  75 

la}^  ready  to  ferry  us  through  its  beautiful  reaches. 
The  lake  winds  among  the  hills  in  such  a  way,  that 
but  one  of  its  sections  or  reaches  can  be  seen  at  a  time. 
You  seem  to  be  circling  round  a  mountain-hemmed 
pool,  until  a  hidden  outlet  opens  to  view,  and  you 
enter  another  secluded  recess  of  beauty. 

Upon  the  upper  shore  of  the  first  reach  is 
Lyulph's  Tower,  in  ivy -clad  ruins,  now  partially 
fitted  up  as  a  lodge  to  a  deer  park.  In  a  glen 
behind  is  seen  Gowborough  Park ;  a  pretty  opening 
called  Glen  Coin  descends  to  the  lake;  and  all  along 
the  shores  are  sprinkled  villas  and  cottages,  enticing 
abodes  of  summer  resort. 

The  hills  rise,  every  where,  in  brown  bare  peaks. 
each  with  its  distinctive  appellation,  and  at  the  end 
of  a  long  perspective  of  sharp  hills  in  the  third 
reach,  stands  Helvellyn.  Skiddaw,  we  could  not,  or 
did  not  see,  the  morning  being  misty. 

At  Patterdale,  the  end  of  the  charming  water,  we 
lunched,  and  set  out  again  by  carriage  for  Winder- 
mere.  Here  we  found  the  counterpart  of  the  pretty 
vehicle  which  we  remember  as  associated  with  the 
pleasures  of  Welshland ;  not  the  only  thing  in  the 
day  that  reminded  us  of  Wales.  I  do  not  know  any 
seat  in  any  vehicle,  to  compare,  in  comfort  and 
pleasure,  with  the  driver's  box  of  that  wagonette. 

The  three  horses  which  formed  our  turnout  were 
suggestive,  and  the  way  answered  the  suggestion. 
The  valley  was,  at  first,  wide  and  cultivated ;  in  the 
bottom  lay  Brotherswater,  and  one  or  two  other 


76  WAYSIDE     SKETCHES. 

small  lakes,  or,  as  they  call  them,  tarns,  whose  names 
I  forget.  As  we  advanced  to  the  ascent,  the  valley 
narrowed  to  a  pass  strongly  resembling  that  of  Llan- 
beris ;  but  instead  of  the  craggy  impending  cliffs, 
the  hills  sloped  upward  with  a  less  threatening 
aspect. 

Thousands  of  sheep  browsed  upon  the  steep  slopes 
or  clung  to  the  dangerous  summits.  Small  rills 
came  leaping  down  the  rocky  declivities  in  little 
silver  cascades,  ever  and  anon  uniting  their  streams, 
until,  at  last,  they  flowed  in  a  brawling  brook,  clear 
and  bright,  over  a  stony  bed  by  the  roadside. 

The  road  was,  as  a  matter  of  course,  the  same 
smooth  causeway  that  one  finds  from  one  end  of  the 
kingdom  to  the  other,  but  the  pass  was  long,  and 
sometimes  steep  as  Ben  Lomond ;  so  steep  that  we 
were  forced  to  alight,  three  horses  not  sufficing  to 
drag  more  than  the  light  empty  vehicle  up  the 
straight  ascent. 

This  is  called  the  Kirkstone  pass,  and  at  its  head 
stands  a  stone  from  which  it  takes  the  name. 

At  the  breathing  spot  on  the  crest  of  the  moun 
tain  is  the  highest  inhabited  house  in  England,  being 
fourteen  hundred  feet  above  the  sea, 

Now  began  a  descent,  quite  as  precipitous,  and  far 
more  difficult  than  the  toilsome  way  upward,  but  the 
danger  of  the  way  was  soon  forgotten  in  the  unfold 
ing  charms  of  the  scene  beneath. 

Far  in  the  western  distance  shone  the  waters  of 
the  sea,  and,  between,  peak  after  peak  lifted  its- 


WAYSIDE     SKETCHES.  77 

brown  head  to  the  sky,  and  bathed  its  loot  in  the 
crystal  waters  of  the  lakes.  The  bare  hills  receded 
from  the  gorge,  and  soft  green  swells  began  to 
undulate  through  the  valley,  and  roll  up  their  waves 
of  cultivation  to  the  heathery  moor.  And  a  love 
lier  scene  never  greeted  the  eye  of  tourist  in  any 
land,  than  that  which  burst  upon  our  view  when 
Lake  Windermere  opened  below,  with  all  its  gar 
niture  of  cloud  and  cliff,  field  and  wood,  knoll  and 
meadow,  park,  villa  and  cottage,  spread  out  beneath 
our  feet,  in  endless  variety  and  matchless  beauty. 
None  but  those  who  have  threaded  the  charming 
maze,  can  comprehend  what  it  means,  to  say  that  our 
way  lay  through  Eydal,  by  Eydal  water,  and  Mount, 
and  Hall,  to  Grasmere;  to  the  quiet  churchyard,  where 
lies  all  that  was  mortal  of  Wordsworth,  and  Southey, 
and  Hartley  Coleridge.  If  I  should  choose  a  home 
out  of  all  the  world,  it  would  be  in  the  midst  of  the 
combined  beauty  and  cultivation  of  the  Lake 
country. 

We  dined  at  Ambleside,  at  an  inn  beside  the  lake ; 
and  eschewing  speed  and  steam  in  such  a  world  of 
soft,  rich,  quiet  beauty,  we  took  an  oarsman  and 
drifted  down  the  silent  water,  with  the  exquisite 
scenery  in  our  vision,  and  the  reverent  memory  of 
genius  in  our  hearts. 

Watson,  Wilson,  Martineau,  Arnold,  Hemans, 
Wordsworth,  Southey,  Coleridge  —  what  a  constella 
tion  glitters  upon  the  bosom  of  these  lovely  waters. 

Aug.  19.     We, slept  at  night  at  Lancaster,  at  an 


78  WAYSIDE     SKETCHES. 

inn  which  has  been  kept  as  such  for  two  hundred 
years ;  filled  with  antiquarian  collections  of  pictures, 
china  and  curiosities.  There  were  portraits  of  Queen 
Elizabeth,  Milton,  Hannah  More,  a  lovely  face  which 
Mr.  R.  thinks  one  of  the  Jennings,  and  an  elegant 
full-length  portrait  of  a  nobleman  by  Godfrey 
Kneller.  The  house  is  full  of  quaint,  carved  oaken 
work,  and  was  really  a  sight  in  its  way — and  so  was 
the  bill  in  the  morning. 

From  the  red  rose  to  the  white.  We  came  to 
York  by  way  of  Leeds,  stopping  at  Keighly  to  make 
a  pilgrimage  to  the  home  and  the  grave  of  Charlotte 
Bronte.  I  am  glad  to  have  been  able  to  diverge 
from  the  beaten  track,  and  to  see  the  new  aspect  of 
life,  presented  by  this  drive  to  Haworth.  This 
remote  village  is  built  of  the  stoniest  houses,  up  the 
steepest,  stoniest  streets  that  humanity  has  often 
chosen  for  its  habitation,  and  a  more  uninteresting 
class  of  people  in  appearance  it  would  be  hard  to 
find.  Men,  women,  and  children,  gaped  upon  us 
from  the  doors  of  the  comfortless  looking  dwellings, 
and  grinned  at  us  in  the  streets,  as  if  we  were  a 
small  menagerie  of  curious  animals.  It  was  impos 
sible  to  stop  on  the  way,  for  the  necessity  of  starting 
anew  would  have  proved  too  much  for  the  insecure 
footing  of  the  horses. 

The  only  ornament  of  the  village  was  its  pottery. 
Whether  the  place  has  a  monopoly  of  license  for  the 
vending  of  earthen  ware,  or  whether  the  pavement 
is  the  approved  deposit  for  the  display  of  household 


WAYSIDE     SKETCHES.  79 

stuff,  the  same  array  of  vessels  of  honor  and  dishonor 
flanked  the  entrances  of  all  these  stony  abodes. 
The  district  is  evidently  a  manufacturing  one,  and 
troops  of  stolid,  heavy -looking  women,  with  woollen 
shawls  over  their  heads,  were  streaming  down  the  hill 
to  their  afternoon  work. 

The  parsonage,  where  Miss  Bronte  passed  her 
chilly  life,  stands  at  the  summit  of  the  long  steep 
hill ;  before  it  stretches  the  densely  populated 
churchyard,  one  continuous  pavement  of  memorial 
slabs ;  and  below  is  the  church,  in  the  chancel  of 
which  she  lies  beside  her  family.  The  stone  under 
which  she  rests  is  in  the  aisle,  directly  in  front  of 
the  communion  table,  and  a  slab  in  the  chancel  wall 
records  the  deaths  of  the  whole  family.  We  were 
shown  her  seat  in  the  rectory  pew,  and  her  signature 
in  the  marriage  register.  A  more  untoward  spot 
than  this  for  the  suggestions  of  fiction  could  scarcely 
be  imagined ;  but  genius  takes  of  imperfect  mate 
rials  and  constructs  edifices  which  challenge  the 
admiration  of  the  most  cultivated. 

Our  journey  this  afternoon  has  left  the  barren 
peaks  and  the  moorlands  far  behind,  and  has  led 
among  green  fields  and  ripened  grain ;  a  soft,  rich, 
smiling  landscape,  which  speaks  of  the  cultivation 
of  generations,  and  tells  of  antiquity  as  truly  as  do 
the  ivy-grown  abbeys  which  we  have  passed,  with 
great  boles  of  trees  overtopping  the  encircling 
walls. 

Aug.  20.     It  is  the  week  of  the  races,   and  we 


80  WAYSIDE     SKETCHES. 

bade  fair  to  be  forced  out  of  this  ancient  and  curious 
city  by  the  sheer  want  of  a  bed.  We,  the  ladies, 
spent  an  hour  and  a  half  at  the  station,  while  the 
gentlemen  went  in  fruitless  quest  from  hotel  to 
lodging  house. 

At  last,  in  desperation,  they  came  up  to  take  a 
moonlight  view  of  the  Minster  before  leaving  the 
city  to  seek  more  hospitable  reception  elsewhere; 
and  by  a  combination  of  good  fortune  and  perseve 
rance,  found  lodgings  under  the  very  shadow  of  the 
great  Minster,  which  lifts  its  solemn  front  as  if  it 
were  the  growth  of  the  ages,  and  no  construction  of 
the  puny  hand  of  man.  We  were  wakened  many 
times  in  the  night 

"  By  the  mighty  Minster's  bell, 
Tolling  with  a  sullen  swell," 

the  waves  of  sound  floating  out  upon  the  air,  just 
above  our  heads. 

We  were  out,  betimes,  pacing  the  court,  to  gain 
some  conception  of  the  cathedral's  extent  and  exte 
rior  beauty,  and  were  quite  ready  for  the  opening  of 
the  doors  at  nine.  I  cannot  attempt  any  description 
of  York  Minster.  It  is  stupendous  in  its  extent, 
solemn  in  its  grandeur,  exquisite  in  its  beauty.  It  is 
in  wonderfully  perfect  preservation.  It  was  founded 
in  A.  D.  626.  and  has  gathered  added  beauty  and  size 
from  succeeding  generations.  The  thirteenth  and 
fourteenth  centuries  contributed  most  towards  its 
perfection. 


WAYSIDE     SKETCHES.  81 

Among  the  splendid  windows,  that  of  the  north 
transept,  called  the  "five  sisters,"  is  remarkably 
beautiful.  It  is  more  than  fifty  feet  in  height,  exqui 
site  in  harmony  of  color  and  delicacy  of  design. 
The  great  chancel  window,  seventy-seven  feet  in 
height,  is  considered  the  finest  in  the  world.  It  is 
a  specimen  of  English  art,  and  was  finished  in  less 
than  three  years. 

It  seems  strange  that  with  all  the  modern  improve 
ments  in  science  and  the  arts,  these  ancient  windows 
defy  all  attempts  to  approach  them  in  the  combined 
splendor  and  softness  of  their  coloring.  One  discerns 
the  imitation  at  a  glance.  It  would  need  a  volume 
to  describe  the  beauties  of  this  mighty  structure. 

We  saw,  in  the  vestry,  a  most  curious  relic  of 
antiquity,  the  drinking  cup  of  Ulpho,  the  donor  of 
the  site  of  the  edifice,  by  which  the  chapter  holds 
the  fee  of  the  bequest.  It  is  an  elephant's  tusk, 
polished  with  great  skill,  bound  with  silver,  and 
inscribed  with  various  designs.  Archiepiscopal  rings 
of  great  value,  and  a  silver  crosier,  a  present  from 
Catharine  of  Braganza,  to  her  confessor,  form  a  part 
of  the  curious  possessions  of  the  church. 

Monuments  of  Archbishops,  lords  and  benefactors, 
are  scattered  around  the  edifice,  or  affixed  to  the 
walls.  The  Chapter  house  is  a  gem  of  beauty  ;  the 
delicate  carvings  and  rich  windows  are  nearly  four 
hundred  years  old,  perfect  in  preservation ;  and  the 
room  still  serves  the  purpose  for  which  it  was  con 
structed.  The  choir  is  screened  with  elaborately 


82  WAYSIDE     SKETCHES. 

carved  oak,  but  has  been  twice  destroyed  by  fire ; 
once  at  least  the  work  of  an  insane  incendiary. 

Here  we  attended  morning  prayer.  As  it  was  my 
first  experience  of  cathedral  service,  curiosity  min 
gled  with  my  devotions.  But  it  was  an  awe-inspiring 
service,  to  kneel  where  prayers  went  up  a  thousand 
years  ago  to  Him  in  whose  sight  "a  thousand  years 
are  but  as  yesterday  when  it  is  past."  The  service 
was  intoned  by  one  of  the  minor  canons,  and  the 
lessons  read  by  another ;  the  president  and  another 
canon  being  present  in  their  robes.  Intoned  prayer 
has,  to  my  taste,  more  the  effect  of  a  performance 
than  of  devotion,  but  the  music  was  superb ;  led  by 
the  grand  organ,  and  chanted  by  a  choir,  not  of  boys, 
but  of  men,  it  was  satisfying,  evenx  under  the  roof  of 
such  a  cathedral. 

After  service,  we  ascended  the  lantern,  which  rises 
like  a  square  tower  from  the  centre  of  the  cross.  It 
is  one  hundred  and  ninety-one  feet  high,  and  has  at 
the  top  an  area  of  sixty-eight  feet  square  ;  a  broad 
platform  from  which  the  view  takes  in  miles  on  miles 
of  country,  with  varied  field,  and  waving  woods, 
and  distant  hills.  From  it  you  see  also  the  ruins  of 
the  palace  of  William  the  Conqueror,  the  Abbey  of 
St.  Mary's,  and  the  wall  which  partly  encircles  the 
city,  with  its  massive  bars  or  gateways.  For  York 
is  an  ancient  city,  the  great  Koman  capital,  dating 
before  the  Christian  era.  Here  Constantine  the 
Great  was  born,  and  Constantius  died ;  and  here  in 
later  days  has  been  the  seat  of  royal  abode  and 


WAYSIDE     SKETCHES.  83 

national  consequence.  We  came  to  England  to  see 
not  only  things,  but  people ;  and  by  way  of  accom 
plishing  the  latter  purpose,  we  drove  out  to  the  races. 

I  had  never  imagined  myself  capable  of  growing 
enthusiastic  over  a  race  course,  but  it  was  even  so ; 
it  was  one  of  the  most  exciting  and  gayest  of  scenes. 
The  running  was  beautiful,  the  lithe  steeds  seeming 
scarcely  to  touch  the  turf,  and  to  enter  with  an  intel 
ligent  interest  into  the  excitement.  We  saw  five 
races ;  the  two  most  important  were  for  the  York 
cup,  and  the  great  Yorkshire  stakes.  The  winners 
were  Mr.  Naylor's  Macaroni,  and  Mr.  Savile's  Ranger, 
beautiful  horses'  both.  In  the  Grimcrack  stakes,  the 
winner,  Coast  Guard,  was  a  fine  horse,  but  the  second, 
Syren,  was  a  beautiful  creature,  that  tempted  one  to 
covet;  a  small,  dark,  delicate-limbed  thing,  seeming 
to  understand  and  appreciate  the  admiration  which 
she  received. 

The  scene  in  the  enclosure  beneath  the  grand  stand, 
upon  which  we  were  seated,  was  a  study.  The  per 
fect  babel  of  betting,  the  eager  hush  of  breathless 
excitement,  and  the  revulsion  at  the  result,  were  in 
excessive  contrast  to  the  usual  notion  of  British 
imperturbability.  However,  every  nature  must  have 
its  outlet,  and  perhaps  betting  is  the  English  safety- 
valve.  It  is  strangely  incomprehensible  to  woman 
kind. 

From  the  races,  we  came  on  to  Chesterfield  by 
rail;  and  thence  by  carriage  to  the  quiet  inn  at 
Edensor,  where  we  repose  under  the  shadow  of  the 


84  WAYSIDE     SKETCHES. 

great  Duke  of  Devonshire,  whose  beautiful  domain 
of  Chatsworth,  we  visit  to-morrow.  We  have  driven 
through  a  grazing  country,  not  unlike  the  hills  of 
New  England.  The  country  about  Chesterfield  is 
of  great  beauty,  broken  into  soft  irregular  swells, 
and  covered  with  the  green  and  gold  of  field  and 
harvest.  Indeed,  beautiful  is  the  only  epithet  appli 
cable  to  the  landscape  of  the  whole  country. 

At  Chesterfield  there  is  a  spire  upon  an  ancient 
church,  which  has  the  appearance  of  having  been 
twisted  and  distorted  from  the  perpendicular  by  a 
whirlwind.  The  villagers  assured  us  that  it  was 
many  feet  out  of  plumb  ;  but  we  afterwards  learned 
that  the  effect  is  produced  by  the  peculiar  manner  of 
putting  the  lead  upon  the  wood  of  the  spire,  and 
that,  notwithstanding  its  apparent  inclination,  it  is 
perfectly  erect. 

The  inn  at  Edensor  is  one  of  the  prettiest,  quiet, 
country  places,  just  at  the  park  gates.  From  the 
windows  you  look  out  upon  the  smooth  green  glades, 
where  a  thousand  deer  troop  among  the  forest  aisles, 
undisturbed  by  beast  or  sportsman. 

Aug.  21.  We  drove  up  the  smooth  park  road  to 
the  famed  dwelling  of  the  richest  Duke  in  England. 
Chatsworth  is  not  imposing  as  a  structure,  being  an 
extensive,  but  rather  plain,  square-looking  edifice. 
It  fronts  upon  a  succession  of  garden  terraces,  by 
which  is  the  descent  to  the  Derwent,  a  sweet,  quiet 
stream.  The  entrance  is  by  tall  gilded  gates,  at  one 
of  the  extreme  wings.  Indeed,  one  seldom  sees  here 


SKETCHES.  85 

what  is  apt  to  monopolize  the  better  part  of  Ameri 
can  dwellings,  an  entrance  upon  the  main  front. 

The  interior  is  on  a  scale  of  magni licence  worthy 
the  establishment  of  a  Duke  who  has  crowned  heads 
among  his  guests.  The  spacious  extent  of  grand 
halls,  lofty  stair-cases,  splendid  corridors,  and  mag 
nificent  apartments,  is  crowded  with  works  of  the 
highest  art,  and  with  every  appropriate  expression  of 
the  wealth  and  taste  of  the  owner. 

The  apartments  overlook  not  only  the  distant  park, 
but  a  wonderful  variety  of  pleasure  grounds  and  gar 
dens,  such  as  belong  to  no  other  estate  in  England. 

The  most  striking  beauty  of  the  rooms  themselves, 
independent  of  the  rare  and  costly  articles  to  be 
found  in  them,  is  the  exquisite  wood  carving  which 
adorns  every  room,  and  especially  the  chapel.  It  is 
by  Gibbons,  and  represents  flowers  with  minute  deli 
cacy,  like  the  most  carefully  moulded  wax  petals. 
The  graceful  wreaths  that  surround  the  wainscoting, 
stand  out  from  the  heavy  wood  as  if  just  suspended 
in  natural  garlands;  and  among  them  nestle  birds 
with  plumage  just  as  delicately  rendered.  In  one  of 
the  rooms  hangs  a  frame,  in  which  is  enclosed  Gib 
bons'  masterpiece.  It  is  a  small  bird,  with  a  bouquet 
of  flowers,  and  folds  of  richly  wrought  lace  depend 
from  them.  It  seems  incredible  that  a  material  so 
heavy  as  wood  can  be  wrought  into  such  a  perfect 
representation  of  an  airy  fabric,  fine  as  threads  of 
gossamer. 

Among  the  choice  works  of  art,  too  numerous  to 


86  WAYSIDE     SKETCHES. 

be  mentioned  or  even  noted  with  more  than  a  passing 
glance,  was  a  splendid  green  malachite  vase,  a  present 
from  the  Emperor  Nicholas,  and  a  still  more  splendid 
table  of  the  same  magnificent  stone,  from  the  Empe 
ror's  daughter.  Among  the  Imperial  gifts  were  also 
busts  of  the  Emperor  and  Empress.  The  Czar  was 
guest  at  Chatsworth  during  his  visit  to  England. 

The  great  attraction  at  Chatsworth,  in  my  eyes, 
was  the  collection  of  sculpture.  Canova,  Chantrey, 
Powers,  and  other  masters  have  contributed  to  this 
rare  embellishment  of  a  private  mansion.  One  large 
hall  is  devoted  to  statuary  of  the  choicest  description. 
It  was  pleasant  to  see  a  fine  bust  of  our  own  Everett 
in  such  companionship.  Among  the  pieces  of  sculp 
ture  which  I  remember  with  most  pleasure,  were  a 
group  of  Venus  with  Cupid  extracting  a  thorn  from 
her  foot ;  Mars  and  Cupid  ;  Endymion  and  his  dog ; 
Madame  Letitia  and  Pauline  Buonaparte ;  and  a 
splendid  Hercules. 

Two  grand  lions  couchant  guard  the  entrance  from 
the  hall  of  statuary  to  the  orangery  ;  and  here  begins 
the  wonderful  part  of  Chatsworth. 

Sir  Joseph  Paxton,  the  architect  of  the  Crystal 
Palace  at  Sydenham,  was  the  Duke's  gardener,  and 
Chatsworth  grounds  were  the  scene  of  his  many 
years'  toil  and  success.  The  gardens  cover  many 
acres.  The  conservatory  itself  has  a  broad  carriage 
drive  through  its  centre.  A  light,  beautiful  glass 
structure  rises,  like  a  gigantic  air  bubble,  from  the 
conservatory,  and  within  are  fo and  plants  from  every 


WAYSIDE     SKETCHES.  87 

corner  of  the  tropics,  from  fern  to  palm.  One  may 
imagine  the  height  of  a  building  which  permits  the 
palm  to  spread  its  tall  fans  beneath  its  shelter. 

Through  the  midst  of  the  conservatory  a  stream 
of  water  is  brought,  in  a  continuous  fall,  over  a  suc 
cession  of  rocky  terraces,  to  feed  an  artificial  lake 
beneath  the  drawing-room  windows. 

You  presently  pass  out  of  the  elaborate  gardens, 
filled  with  exotics  and  artfully  massed  shrubs  and 
flowers,  into  what  seems  a  wilderness  of  uncultivated 
wild  wood,  which  is,  nevertheless,  a  work  of  art,  still 
more  elaborate  than  the  former. 

Thousands  of  huge  rocks  lie  scattered  in  irregular 
confusion,  like  the  primitive  occupants  of  the  soil ; 
and  among  them  grow  forest  trees  and  underbrush  ; 
heather  clings  to  the  stony  earth,  and  ferns  and 
maidenhair  spring  luxuriantly  from  the  dim  crevices. 
Here  and  there  tall  cliffs  overhang  the  solitary  way, 
seeming  solid  as  the  everlasting  hills ;  and  yet  they 
have  been  artificially  constructed  of  rocks  blasted 
from  their  original  position  in  the  primeval  hills,  and 
carefully  replaced  here  in  their  native  order.  Little 
streams  trickle  through  the  clefts  in  the  rocks,  where 
green  mosses  thrive  under  their  droppings.  The 
path  is  a  woodland  way  ;  no  mark  even  of  the  shears 
reminds  one  that  he  is  within  bow-shot  of  royal  mag 
nificence.  By  and  by  the  way  leads  under  a  long 
fissure  in  the  rock,  and  a  mass  of  stone,  of  many 
tons'  weight,  seems  to  bar  farther  progress ;  but  at  a 
touch  it  turns  upon  a  pivot,  and  proves  to  be  only  a 


88  WAYSIDE     SKETCHES. 

gateway  to  the  egress.  Near  by  is  a  rocking  stone, 
so  nicely  poised  that  the  pressure  of  the  finger  sets 
it  in  vibration. 

Then  the  notice  is  drawn  to  a  palm-like  tree,  stiff 
with  bristling  points,  from  every  twig  of  which  sud 
denly  bursts  a  shower,  met  by  tiny  leaps  from  a 
hidden  fountain  below.  At  every  little  lakelet  the 
attendant  disappeared,  and  presently  a  feathery  foun 
tain  shot  into  the  air,  and  fell  in  a  shower  of  pearls 
upon  the  surface  of  the  pool. 

Wealth  and  art  seem  to  be  exhausted  in  attaining, 

O7 

within  this  charmed  space,  all  the  varieties  of  nature. 
Yet  all  this  outlay  keeps  up,  not  a  home,  but  a  show 
place,  for  the  Duke  is  at  home  upon  another  of  his 
splendid  estates,  and  Chatsworth  delights  the  eye  of 
the  public  more  than  that  of  its'  noble  master. 

On  one  side  of  the  park,  near  the  house,  is  the 
remnant  of  a  tower  called  Mary's  bower,  the  place  of 
confinement  for  the  Queen  of  Scots  for  a  time,  under 
the  charge  of  the  Earl  and  Countess  of  Shrewsbury. 
I  have  an  impression,  but  do  not  know  whether  it  is 
correct,  that  this  was  also  the  place  where  Lady  Ara 
bella  Stuart  was  confined  when  she  made  her  unsuc 
cessful  attempt  to  join  her  husband. 

As  we  drove  back  through  the  park,  a  herd  of 
more  than  two  hundred  deer  came  leaping  over  the 
low  hills,  as  unconcerned  at  the  presence  of  man  as  if 
he  were  no  more  dangerous  enemy  than  the  sheep 
which  were  browsing  in  the  quiet  pastures. 

Haddon  Hall  is  one  of  the-  ancient  relics  of  the 


WAYSIDE     SKETCHES.  89 

grandeur  of  past  generations,  as  Chatsworth  is  the 
representative  of  modern  magnificence. 

The  walls  of  the  gray  old  dwelling  and  fortress  are 
in  perfect  preservation ;  the  rooms  all  whole,  just  the 
same,  with  the  exception  of  the  furniture,  as  they 
were  in  the  days  of  the  Peveril  of  the  Peak.  The 
walls  are  still  hung  with  Grobelin  tapestry,  and  por 
traits  still  adorn  the  walls.  The  old  door,  black 
with  the  storms  of  years,  admitted  us,  through  a 
narrow  wicket,  to  the  quadrangle,  around  which  stand 
the  massive  walls  and  ancient  towers,  and  beyond  a 
second  court  are  pretty  terraces,  with  walks  of  noble 
trees ;  and  the  unfailing  ivy  clothes  both  walls  and 
trees  with  cheerful  verdure. 

The  great  banqueting  hall  resembles,  except  in  its 
spacious  extent,  a  very  old-fashioned  kitchen.  The 
floor  is  of  stone ;  a  huge  fire-place  nearly  fills  one 
side,  and  oaken  benches  are  ranged  along  the  heavy 
worm-eaten  oak  tables.  Around  the  upper  part  of  the 
room  runs  a  gallery,  from  which  perhaps  the  dames 
sometimes  looked  down  upon  the  wassail  below. 

In  one  of  the  chambers  still  stands  Queen  Eliza 
beth's  state  bed,  with  all  its  ancient  hangings ;  and 
her  portrait  and  that  of  Leicester  hang  in  the  draw 
ing-room. 

We  explored  the  chill,  stony  chambers,  and  climbed 
the  highest  turret  to  catch  the  sweet  picture  spread 
out  beneath  the  low  afternoon  sunlight,  and  went 
back  once  more  to  enjoy  the  terraces  and  gardens, 
crowded  with  the  dim  shadows  of  the  long  past. 


j 
90  WAYSIDE     SKETCHES. 

In  the  extreme  tower  is  shown  the  door  by  which 
one  of  the  damsels  of  the  house,  Dorothy  Vernon, 
escaped  to  join  a  favored  lover,  forbidden  to  press 
his  suit  in  the  approved  way,  from  what  cause  does 
not  appear  in  the  legend.  Perhaps  family  feud,  per 
haps  prejudice  may  have  influenced  the  fair  one's 
guardians  ;  it  is  just  possible  that  a  prudent  and 
loving  regard  for  her  welfare  may  have  been  the 
spring.  Be  that  as  it  may,  the  old,  yet  ever  new  tale 
of  love,  stronger  than  law  or  prudence,  still  remains 
— the  best  remembered,  because  of  its  most  enduring 
sympathies,  of  the  legends  of  the  Hall.  This  Hall, 
once  a  present  from  the  Conqueror  to  his  son,  is,  even 
by  virtue  of  that  same  elopement,  the  property  of 
the  Earl  of  Kutland,  and  he  preserves  the  possession 
with  that  reverent  love  for  the  links  which  bind  the 
present  to  the  hoary  past  which  distinguishes  this 
nation,  so  rich  in  the  proofs  of  the  prowess,  the 
chivalry,  the  power  and  the  splendor  of  the  past— 
so  full  of  magnificence  and  enterprise  in  the  present. 

From  Haddon  we  came  to  Eowsley,  and  thence  by 
rail  to  Rugby,  a  place  than  which  no  shrine  of  devo 
tion  for  the  scholar  and  the  Christian  should  be  more 
dear.  Here  lived  and  labofed  the  lamented  Arnold  ; 
and  from  this  quiet  home  of  learning  have  gone  forth 
streams  which  shall  purify  and  gladden  the  earth  for 
long  years  to  come  —  perhaps  I  should  say  forever. 
We  slept  at  Leamington,  a  modern  town  and  fashion 
able  watering  place,  the  handsomest  of  all  the  smaller 
towns  that  we  have  seen  in  the  country. 


WAYSIDE     SKETCHES.  91 

Aug.  22.  Left  Leamington  for  that  charming  en 
joyment,  a  long  drive  through  English  scenery.  One 
cannot  go  amiss ;  the  country  presents  some  new 
beauty  at  every  step,  and  these  counties  through 
which  we  have  just  been  passing,  are  one  continuous 
garden.  The  green  hedgerows  encircle  fields  bright 
with  the  emerald  verdure  of  lawny  grass,  or  golden 
with  the  wealth  of  ripened  grain  standing  in  abund 
ant  sheaves,  while  the  busy  gleaners  gather  the  stray 
ears  of  corn  from  the  stubble — a  labor  more-  pic 
turesque  to  the  tourist,  I  fear,  than  profitable  or 
pleasing  to  the  poor  harvesters,  whose  scanty  store 
needs  the  addition  of  such  meagre  plenishing. 

As  we  sweep  along  the  quiet  country  over  these 
perfect  roads,  we  cannot  help  wondering  where  are 
the  people  who  make  up  the  dense  population  of  the 
island.  Our  own  country  roads  are  not  more  lone 
than  these.  We  see  abundant  traces  of  the  hand  of 
man  in  the  tillage  of  the  soil,  but  the  dwellings  are 
scattered,  and  the  hamlets  small.  It  is  eminently 
suggestive  of  the  probable  congestion  of  population 
in  the  larger  towns. 

The  English  love  to  seclude  their  homes,  and  a 
gateway  opening  through  the  wall  that  lines  the  way, 
is  usually  the  only  indication  of  your  near  approach 
to  some  abode  of  beauty  or  stateliness  within.  But 
the  simplest  names  upon  the  guide-boards  are  classic 
with  associations  which  have  been  familiar  to  us  from 
childhood. 

Our  way  lay  to  Kenilworth,  the  most  picturesque 


92  WAYSIDE     SKETCHES. 

ruin  in  England.  The  very  name  calls  up  a  picture 
which  is  as  poetic  and  romantic  as  it  is  historic. 
Kobert  Dudley,  the  handsome,  fascinating,  but  not 
very  faithful  favorite  of  the  great  Queen,  is  the 
middle  figure  in  the  scene;  but  a  woman's  heart 
aches  for  the  stern  lonely  fate  of  the  woman  whose 
strong  sense  of  the  necessities  of  her  nation  taught 
her  to  put  down  her  woman's  love  with  a  resolute 
grasp,  and  embittered,  with  a  thousand  pangs,  that 
inner  life  in  which  her  sex  must  find  its  happiness 
or  misery. 

One  cannot  see  this  stately,  ivy-clad  ruin,  rising 
upon  the  landscape,  with  only  the  ordinary  interest 
attached  to  the  historic  past.  The  busy  fancy  builds 
again  the  ruined  walls,  hangs  banners  upon  the  per 
fect  towers,  peoples  lawn  and  park  with  prince  and 
noble,  knight  and  squire,  and  catches  a  glimpse  of 
the  fair  face  of  Amy  Kobsart  at  the  window  of  her 
lonely  tower — happier  even  there,  in  her  innocent 
love,  and  her  ^ignorance  of  her  coming  doom,  than 
the  monarch  in  her  presence  chamber.  The  date  of 
Kenilworth  is  lost  in  antiquity,  but  it  was  a  place  of 
importance  in  the  time  of  Henry  the  First.  The  most 
ancient  and  the  most  perfect  of  the  towers  is  called 
Caesar's  Tower.  One  side  of  the  court  contains 
buildings  erected  by  John  of  Gaunt;  the  southern 
side  was  built  by  Dudley ;  the  western  was  the  work 
of  Henry  the  Eighth,  and  is  entirely  gone.  It  is  re 
markable  that  the  later  edifices  are  the  most  perish 
able,  and  are  crumbling  away,  while  the  towers  of 


WAYSIDE     SKETCHES.  93 

most  remote  date  are  firm  and  solid,  and  even  the 
windows  are  still  perfect.  The  whole  ruin  shows 
that  it  was  a  palace  of  great  splendor.  The  feudal 
times,  when  the  desideratum  in  a  castle  was  simply 
its  power  of  resistance,  had  passed  away,  and  light, 
and  beauty  and  grace  began  to  be  possible  in  the  time 
of  Leicester. 

The  windows  would  be  handsome  and  graceful 
even  in  these  times,  and  they  must  have  commanded 
a  beautiful  scene  of  lake  and  wood.  The  lake  is  now 
converted  into  a  meadow,  and  the  great  portal  which 
Dudley  built,  and  through  which  Elizabeth  made  her 
splendid  entrance,  is  now  a  well-kept  farm-house  for 
the  tenants  who  take  care  of  the  place. 

Leicester's  bed-room,  the  State  apartments,  the 
dining  hall,  the  drawing-room,  are  all  easily  distin 
guished.  Mervyn's  Tower  contains  the  room  in 
which  Amy  was  confined  during  Elizabeth's  visit. 
Lord  Clarendon,  the  fortunate  possessor  of  this  most 
picturesque  ruin,  spares  no  pains  to  keep  it  in  good 
preservation.  I  have  never  seen  such  luxuriance  of 
ivy.  In  addition  to  the  ordinary  ivy,  which  we 
cultivate  at  home  with  so  much  care,  and  which 
seems  here  to  be  the  natural  garb  of  inorganic  mat 
ter,  another  species  hangs  its  full  leafy  garlands  upon 
the  walls,  with  a  growth  almost  like  a  shrub,  making, 
upon  the  rough  outline  of  the  ruins,  a  verdant  wall 
of  beauty,  ever  fresh  and  ever  charming.  One  of 
the  acts  of  vandalism  that  disgraced  the  rule  of 
Cromwell  was  the  giving  up  of  this  noble  mansion 


94  WAYSIDE     SKETCHES. 

to  his  soldiery  for  pillage  and  destruction.  Without 
some  such  act  of  intentional  violence,  the  Castle  of 
Kenilworth  might  have  been  standing  in  perfection, 
at  this  very  day. 

On  our  way  through  the  country  roads  from 
Kenilworth  to  Warwick,  we  passed  Stoneleigh  Ab 
bey,  the  residence  of  Lord  Leigh;  seen  only  by 
glimpses,  and  withdrawn  from  the  public  thorough 
fare,  as  English  country-seats  delight  to  be,  by  wind 
ing  avenues  beyond  the  walls  of  enclosure.  Guy's 
Cliff,  the  property  of  Hon.  Bertie  Percy,  is  an  excep 
tion.  It  breaks  upon  the  view  with  a  most  unex 
pected  pleasure.  As  the  high  road  passes  a  small 
water,  you  look  up  the  opposite  side,  through  an 
avenue  of  noble  trees,  to  the  house,  standing  in  a 
wilderness  of  flowers. 

The  story  of  Guy's  Cliff,  as  the  legend  runs,  is 
romantic.  Guy,  the  first  Earl  of  Warwick,  a 
renowned  giant,  went  with  his  peers  to  the  Crusades, 
leaving  the  Lady  Felicia,  or  Phyllis,  as  she  was 
called,  at  home.  Becoming  weary  of  the  Crusades, 
and  of  public  life,  he  privately  returned  in  the  dis 
guise  of  a  palmer,  and  under  the  protection  of  the 
Lady  of  Warwick,  he  hewed  himself  a  dwelling  out 
of  the  rock,  not  far  from  his  own  home,  where  he 
passed  the  remainder  of  his  life.  He  met  his  sor 
rowing,  solitary  wife,  as  her  almoner  and  ghostly 
adviser ;  but  kept  his  secret  fast  locked  in  his  own 
breast,  until  the  near  approach  of  death  loosened  the 
strong  grasp  of  his  will,  and  he  sent  for  his  wife,  and 


WAYSIDE     SKETCHES.  95 

tt 

'       \\  4^-    **  P* 

revealed  himself  to  her.  She  survived  him  but  a 
short  time,  and  they  both  lie  in  the  rocky  home 
which  his  own  hands  had  fashioned.  Alas!  poor 
Lady  Phillis ! 

Warwick  Castle  is  the  perfect  realization  of  one's 
ideal  of  an  English  nobleman's  home.  It  is  ap 
proached  by  the  ancient  town  of  Warwick,  where 
one  sees  the  hospital  for  old  soldiers,  founded  by 
Eobert  Dudley,  guarded  still  by  the  cloaked  veterans, 
as  it  was  three  hundred  years  ago.  But  the  town 
gathers  around  the  base  of  the  great  castle,  as  tiny 
shoots  cluster  at  the  foot  of  a  majestic  oak.  You 
feel,  as  you  see  the  gray,  massive  towers  looming 
against  the  sky,  that  you  are  approaching  the  abode 
of  royalty  ;  and  in  good  sooth  the  instinct  is  a  true 
one,  for  here  dwelt  one  whom  royalty  must  needs 
acknowledge  as  a  King  maker. 

You  enter  a  massive  porter's  lodge,  in  which  the 
keeper  shows  you  a  room  containing  many  relics  of 
the  great  Earl  Guy  aforesaid.  He  was  over  eight  feet 
in  height,  and  his  armor,  and  that  of  his  horse,  are 
here  entire  ;  with  his  halberd,  his  lance,  and  his  por 
ridge  pot,  the  latter  capable  of  containing  one  hun 
dred  and  two  gallons,  made  of  bell  metal,  bright  as  a 
modern  tea-kettle.  The  portress  said  she  saw  it  thrice 
filled  with  punch  on  the  occasion  of  the  present  Earl 
coming  of  age.  There  was  the  flesh  hook  with 
which  the  giant  fished  his  meat  from  the  caldron. 
I  think  Shakspeare  may  have  commemorated  this 
very  pot  in  his  Witches'  caldron;  he  was  a  near 


96  WAYSIDE     SKETCHES. 

neighbor,  and  must  have  been  familiar  with  it 
There  were  in  the  same  room  some  arms  taken  from 
the  Armada.  From  the  lodge,  the  way  is  hewn  out 
of  solid  rock,  higher  than  a  man's  head ;  ivy  and 
shrubs  cover  the  top  of  the  rocks,  and  overhang 
their  sides. 

Over  the  massive  inner  gateway  still  hangs  the 
portcullis,  and  no  touch  of  time  has  crumbled  the 
mighty  structure  of  these  walls.  The  wide  green 
court  is  surrounded  by  the  solid,  perfect  wall  of  the 
ancient  castle,  flanked  by  tall  towers  at  each  corner 
of  the  quadrangle.  Here  is  Cesar's  Tower  again, 
Guy's  Tower,  bearing  date  1394,  and  the  Keep.  Un 
der  the  first  mentioned  is  a  strong  square  dungeon, 
which,  within  the  present  century,  has  served  for  the 
county  prison. 

The  present  dwelling  forms  the  south  side  of  the 
court,  and  is  the  home  of  the  Earl,  as  it  was  the 
home  of  the  great  King  maker  whose  portrait  hangs 
upon  the  wall  within.  It  is  one  great  charm  of  the 
place,  that,  with  all  its  stately  magnificence,  it  is  still 
a  real  home,  and  I  could  feel  far  more  pride  in  the 
possession  of  Warwick  than  of  Chatsworth. 

The  entrance  is  flanked  by  two  small  cannon.  The 
baronial  hall  into  which  the  vestibule  leads,  is  a 
splendid  room,  sixty  feet  long ;  its  huge  fire-place  is 
filled  with  logs  of  wood  ready  for  kindling,  and 
chairs  are  placed  ready  for  guests. 

Here  are  many  curiosities ;  several  complete  suits 
of  armor ;  the  buff  coat  worn  by  Lord  Brooke,  when 


WAYSIDE     SKETCHES.  97 

he  was  wounded  at  Litchfield ;  a  helmet  belonging 
to  Cromwell ;  abundance  of  arms,  horns  of  deer  and 
elk,  elephants'  tusks,  and  Indian  curiosities.  The 
ceiling  is  very  elaborate,  and  adorned  with  the 
armorial  bearings  of  the  family.  From  these  win 
dows  there  is  a  charming  view  of  the  park,  with  a 
long  winding  sweep  of  the  Avon,  and  an  artificial 
waterfall ;  an  exquisite  scene  of  quiet  beauty. 

The  Castle  is  filled  with  fine  paintings,  especially 
a  large  collection  of  Vandykes ;  paintings  by  Ru 
bens,  Corregio,  Da  Yinci,  Lawrence,  Reynolds,  Hol 
bein  and  Teniers ;  a  sweet  picture  of  the  Duke  of 
Buckingham  (Yilliers)  and  his  brother,  and  many 
family  pictures.  The  most  striking  is  Vandyke's 
large  picture  of  Charles  the  First  on  horseback,  at 
the  bottom  of  the  hall.  The  rooms  exhibited  are 
en  suite,  forming  a  vista  of  three  hundred  and  thirty- 
three  feet.  They  are  truly  magnificent,  yet  not  so 
large  as  to  exclude  the  idea  of  habitation. 

The  dining  and  ante-dining  room,  the  Red,  the 
Green,  the  Cedar  drawing  rooms  are  all  filled  with 
splendid  furniture,  and  adorned  with  valuable  pic 
tures.  The  most  curious  thing  of  all  is  a  sideboard, 
carved  out  of  an  oaken  trunk  from  Kenilworth,  a 
present  to  the  Duke  from  the  county.  It  represents 
upon  its  back  the  entrance  of  Queen  Elizabeth  into 
Kenilworth,  after  Scott's  rendering,  in  a  kind  of  alto 
relievo ;  at  one  side  is  the  meeting  of  Amy  with 
the  Queen  in  the  gardens,  where  the  poor  girl  claims 
the  royal  lady's  protection,  and  on  the  other  the 


98  WAYSIDE     SKETCHES. 

interview  in  which  Leicester  shrinks  from  avowing 
his  marriage  in  the  presence  of  the  indignant  mon 
arch.  At  the  corners  are  single  carvings  of  Dudley, 
Kaleigh  and  others.  The  famous  possession  of  the 
house  is  a  table  inlaid  with  precious  stones ;  a  won 
der  of  design  and  of  jewels.  The  State  bed-room 
contains  the  bed  and  furniture  of  Queen  Anne,  a  full 
length  portrait  of  her  Majesty,  and  a  toilet  table  of 
Queen  Victoria,  hung  with  pink  silk,  covered  with 
point  lace.  The  room  adjoining  is  the  Countess' 
dressing  room,  elegant  with  rich  furniture  and  buhl 
ornaments. 

The  gardens  are  handsome,  and  the  lawns  more 
beautiful  than  we  have  seen  any  where  else;  and 
down  the  long  vistas  of  the  park  stand  cedars  of 
Lebanon,  stretching  their  wide  branches  over  Eng 
lish  earth;  perhaps  brought  from  Palestine  by  the 
great  Earl  Guy  himself.  The  entire  grounds  are 
charming  for  their  homelike  seclusion. 

In  the  conservatory  stands  the  great  Warwick 
vase,  two  thousand  years  old ;  dug  out  of  the  earth 
at  Tivoli,  and  bought  by  the  late  Earl  in  1774.  It 
has  a  capacity  of  one  hundred  and  sixty-eight  gal 
lons.  The  sculptured  wreaths  with  which  it  is 
adorned,  and  its  exquisite  design,  are  too  often  re 
produced  to  need  description.  Of  all  the  "stately 
homes  of  England,"  I  like  Warwick  best 

I  thought  of  the  Lady  Phyllis  as  I  gazed  up  at 
the  gray  old  towers,  and  pitied  the  lone  woman,  who 
climbed  their  weary  height,  day  after  day,  until  her 


WAYSIDE     SKETCHES.  99 

eyes  grew  dim  with  watching  the  mysterious  East ; 
who,  night  after  night,  pressed  the  sharp  pang  of 
defrauded  love  to  her  heart,  until  the  aching  wound 
grew  too  deep  for  cure ;  and  all  this  while,  her  lord 
was  treading  the  daily  paths  at  her  feet,  shrouded  in 
a  disguise  which  even  love  could  not  penetrate. 

We  turned  from  Warwick  with  reluctant  steps, 
and  went  on  through  the  same  pretty  country 
"roads,  to  Stratford-on-Avon ;  a  name  which  one 
never  utters  without  a  mental  act  of  reverence. 
Here  in  a  low  cottage,  whose  stone  floor  and  bare 
rafters  are  in  striking  contrast  with  the  tesselated 
pavement  and  magnificent  arches  which  elsewhere 
encircle  his  monument,  is  the  chamber  in  which  the 
immortal  Shakspeare  first  saw  the  light.  The  cot 
tage  is  bare  of  all  furniture,  except  a  table  and 
chairs  for  the  accommodation  of  visitors.  It  contains 
a  very  fine  portrait  of  the  poet,  by  an  unknown 
artist,  and  two  or  three  busts.  Even  the  genius  loci 
of  Shakspeare's  room  has  not  sufficed  to  restrain  the 
petty  vandalism  which,  in  striving  to  become  famous, 
succeeds  only  in  rendering  itself  infamous.  The 
walls  and  low  ceiling  are  black  with  the  meanness  of 
names  —  as  if  the  name  of  royalty  itself  would  not 
pass  unnoticed  in  that  august  presence. 

From  the  cottage,  we  proceeded  to  the  Church  of 
the  Holy  Trinity,  where  lie  the  remains  of  the  poet 
and  his  wife,  with  the  quaint  and  most  unworthy 
epitaph  of  his  own  selection. 

Over  against  the  stone  which  covers  his  vault,  is  a 


100  WAYSIDE     SKETCHES. 

tablet,  with  a  portrait  bust  of  colored  marble,  and  a 
Latin  inscription.  The  bust  was  covered  with  paint 
for  many  years,  and  has  been  cleaned  and  restored 
in  the  present  century.  It  represents  him  in  a 
crimson  doublet  and  a  ruff,  with  a  pen  between  his 
fingers,  and  a  book  in  his  hand. 

The  church  itself  is  very  ancient,  and  has  much 
architectural  merit,  containing  also  some  curious 
ancient  tombs  and  effigies.  The  broken  font  in 
which  Shakspeare  is  supposed  to  have  been  baptized 
is  still  preserved. 

We  crossed  the  pretty  Avon,  upon  whose  border 
rises  the  quiet  church,  the  casket  which  guards  more 
sacred  dust  than  any  urn  "  between  the  withered 
hands "  of  Kome ;  and  took  carriage  at  last  for 
London,  scarcely  daring  to  look  at  the  enticing 
towers  of  Oxford,  which  must  wait  a  more  conven 
ient  season. 

Blenheim  and  Woodstock  are  in  the  same  cate 
gory.  Our  charming  English  tour  is  ended;  and 
henceforth  our  English  interest  must  circle  about 
London  and  its  environs.  Coming  up  to  London  ! 
Who  has  not  looked  upon  that  dim  possibility,  as 
the  consummation  of  earthly  desire ;  and,  indeed, 
one  might  be  well  content  with  what  is  gathered 
within  its  walls.  It  is  the  metropolis  of  the  World. 
I  think  no  one  who  has  ever  read  English  literature 
would  feel  as  a  stranger  in  the  streets  of  London. 
You  cannot  saunter  along  its  ways,  without  meeting 
at  every  corner  a  familiar  name,  or  striking  some 


WAYSIDE     SKETCHES.  101 

chord  of  association  that  goes  vibrating  through  all 
the  memories  of  your  lifetime,  and  ringing  changes 
upon  all  the  great  names  of  the  literary  world. 

We  are  established  upon  the  Strand,  next  door  to 
Exeter  Hall ;  not,  however,  on  account  of  our  Exe 
ter  Hall  proclivities,  and  are  tolerably  masters  of  our 
position. 


102  WAYSIDE     SKETCHES. 


CHAPTER   V. 

ENGLAND. 

London  —  Spurgeon — St.  Paul's  —  Westminster    Abbey  —  Windsor    Castle  — 
Tower — British  Museum. 

AUG.  23.  Went  in  the  morning  to  the  Tabernacle, 
on  the  Surrey  side  of  the  Thames,  to  hear  Spurgeon. 
The  crowd  is  so  great  that  his  own  people  are  admit 
ted  by  tickets.  Strangers  assemble  in  a  dense  mul 
titude  before  the  closed  doors,  to  await  the  hour  of 
service.  If  the  rush  into  the  church  be  any  index 
to  the  spiritual  state  of  the  worshippers,  the  kingdom 
of  Heaven  bids  fair  to  suffer  violence. 

The  building  is  an  immense  edifice  for  a  church  ; 
it  has  three  galleries,  one  above  the  other,  around  the 
entire  amphitheatre,  and  altogether  seats  five  thousand 
people.  I  saw  very  few  vacant  seats  on  this  occasion, 
and  many  people  stood  in  the  aisles.  We  obtained 
seats  near  the  door,  and  my  first  thought  was  of  the 
impossibility  of  hearing  a  word  at  the  farther  end  of 
such  an  assemblage.  The  choir  sat  iri  a  large  enclo 
sure  beneath  the  preacher.  Some  official  conducted 
him  through  to  his  place,  which  is  on  a  level  with  the 
lower  gallery.  Mr.  Spurgeon  is  a  stout,  country- 
looking  man,  much  older  in  appearance  than  in  years. 


WAYSIDE     SKETCHES.  103 

The  first  tone  of  his  voice  dispelled  my  doubts  in  re 
gard  to  hearing ;  it  rang  clearly  and  distinctly  through 
the  great  building,  and  made  every  word  audible. 
The  service  followed  the  usual  extempore  order,  the 
reading  of  Scripture  being  acccompanied  by  a  run 
ning  commentary  upon  the  text.  There  was  no  organ, 
but  there  was  something  grand  in  seeing  that  vast 
assemblage  of  worshippers,  one  mass  of  living  people, 
stand  up  to  sing  the  praise  of  God.  Mr.  Spurgeon 
first  read  the  hymn,  and  then  lined  it  as  the  people 
sang.  His  sermon  was  without  notes,  and  he  stood 
without  desk  or  pulpit,  at  a  low  railing  before  his  seat. 
He  preached  from  Isaiah,  62  :  12.  "Sought  out;" 
the  analysis  running  thus  :  The  expression  "  sought " 
proves  the  natural  state  of  the  thing  sought,  to  be  lost, 
or  "  the  condition  of  man  by  nature."  Secondly,  the 
manner  of  seeking  especially  noted.  God's  people  are 
not  only  sought,  but  sought  out,  effectually,  divinely. 
It  needs  divine  omniscience  to  discern,  divine  om 
nipotence  to  secure,  divine  love  to  persevere  in  rescu 
ing  the  lost,  who  neither  hope,  nor  desire,  nor  intend 
to  be  found.  Thence  was  deduced  the  duty  of  indi 
vidual  Christians  to  make  it  their  especial  business  to 
seek  out  the  lost  among  their  fellow  men.  He  dwelt 
upon  the  necessity  of  carrying  the  gospel  to  those 
who  will  not  come  to  listen  to  it ;  or,  as  he  said,  to 
be  "  grandly  impertinent  "  in  winning  souls  to  Christ. 
His  discourse  was  eminently  orthodox,  and  deeply 
imbued  with  a  zealous,  affectionate  earnestness ;  pure 
in  diction,  fluent  in  utterance,  and  persuasive  in  ten- 


104  WAYSIDE     SKETCHES. 

derness  and '  practical  application.  There  was  no 
mannerism  about  him,  no  self-consciousness,  but  an 
evident  earnestness  in  the  Master's  work. 

In  the  afternoon  we  went  to  St.  Paul's,  and  heard 
a  choral  service.  "  Heard "  applies  to  the  grand 
music ;  the  great  organ  thundered  through  the  arched 
roof  with  such  Glorias  as  I  had  dreamed  of,  but  never 
heard,  and  the  chanting  was  magnificent ;  but  prayers 
and  sermon  were  alike  inaudible.  It  is  no  great 
wonder,  for  speaking  in  St.  Paul's  must  be  very  like 
speaking  under  ,the  open  heavens;  and  prayers 
chanted  in  the  dreary  monotone  of  the  choral,  lose 
all  individuality  of  utterance.  It  is  a  most  undevout 
style  of  prayer,  at  least  to  an  untutored  perception. 
But  the  choirs  are  beyond  all  description.  From  the 
full  deep  bass,  through  the  rich  tenor,  up  to  the  sweet, 
well-trained  treble  of  the  younger  voices,  all  was 
pure,  satisfying  harmony ;  and  the  anthems,  a  part  of 
the  service  unlike  our  own,  were  inexpressibly  thrill 
ing.  I  have  heard  no  hymns  nor  metrical  psalms. 

Aug.  24.  Our  way  to-day  has  been  through  the 
Strand ;  under  Temple  Bar,  where  the  heads  of  traitors 
used  to  be  exposed;  through  Fleet  Street;  up  Ludgate 
Hill,  past  many  a  familiar  corner ;  through  St.  Paul's 
churchyard,  which  means  the  circular  street  that 
encloses  the  Cathedral,  into  Cheapside ;  all  ways 
which  our  imagination  has  trodden  years  ago.  Our 
only  sight-seeing  has  been  the  Cathedral,  quite  enough 
for  one  day.  We  went  through  it,  from  turret  to 
foundation.  The  edifice  itself,  built  by  Sir  Christo- 


WAYSIDE     SKETCHES.  105 

pher  Wren,  after  the  great  fire  of  1666,  does  not 
compare,  in  splendor  of  architecture,  with  the  great 
Minster,  but  it  is  imposing  in  its  vastness.  It  is  five 
hundred  feet  long,  one  hundred  wide,  and  four 
hundred  and  four  in  height.  It  contains  many  monu 
ments,  among  which  are  those  to  Howard,  Dr.  John 
son,  Sir  Joshua  Eeynolds,  Bishop  Heber,  Kelson, 
Cornwallis,  Sir  John  Moore.  The  choir  contains 
some  of  Gibbons'  beautiful  wood  carvings.  The 
windows  are  nearly  all  plain  ;  but  some  of  the  arches 
are  gilded,  as  are  the  galleries  around  the  top  and 
Bottom  of  the  dome.  Upon  the  great  dome  are 
frescoes  by  Sir  James  Thornhill,  representing  eight 
scenes  in  the  life  of  St.  Paul,  viz.  :  His  conversion, 
Paul  and  Barnabas  at  Lystra,  St.  Paul  and  the  sor 
cerer,  St.  Paul  and  Silas  in  prison,  St.  Paul  after  the 
shipwreck  at  Malta,  St.  Paul  before  Agrippa,  St. 
Paul  on  Mars'  Hill,  and  the  burning  of  the  sorcerer's 
books  at  Ephesus.  The  ascent  to  the  top  of  St. 
:  aul's  is  a  matter  of  some  note,  and  we  have  qualified 
ourselves  to  speak  of  it. 

The  early  part  of  the  ascent  is  quite  easy,  so  far  as 
the  whispering  gallery,  which  encircles  the  inner  base 
of  the  huge  dome.  Here  you  may  look  down  into 
the  space  below,  and  gain  some  idea  of  the  height 
from  the  diminished  size  of  the  people  upon  the 
pavement.  The  guide  places  you  against  the  wall, 
while  he  goes  to  the  opposite  side  of  the  gallery, 
whence  his  whisper  is  instantly  and  audibly  trans 
mitted  to  you. 


106  WAYSIDE    SKETCHES. 

Corresponding  to  this  gallery  is  an  outer  one,  of 
stone,  from  which  you  obtain  a  view  of  the  city, 
which  would  be  very  satisfactory  but  for  the  haziness 
of  the  atmosphere.  But  this  is  not  all  of  the  ascent ; 
three  hundred  and  fifty-six  steps  more  are  necessary 
to  bring  you  to  the  desired  point  of  vision.  Visiting 
the  clock  and  bell  rooms,  by  the  way,  you  see  a  great 
bell,  which  tolls  only  for  the  death  of  the  royal 
family,  the  Bishop  of  London,  the  Dean  of  St.  Paul's, 
and  the  existing  Lord  Mayor.  The  last  time  it 
sounded,  its  knell  fell  upon  the  great  city  in  the  dead 
of  night,  announcing  the  death  of  the  lamented  Prince 
Consort. 

The  Golden  Gallery  is  around  the  exterior  summit 
of  the  dome,  whence  you  take  in  the  great  panorama 
of  London,  with  tower  and  spire,  park  and  palace, 
street  and  river,  at  a  glance. 

But  there  is  a  higher  attainable  point,  and  it  is  not 
in  Yankee  nature  to  stop  short  of  the  possible,  so  we 
climb  on  up  the  steep  stairs  of  the  lantern  ;  the  stairs 
become  ladders  before  we  reach  the  top,  where,  be 
tween  the  pillars  which  support  the  gilded  ball,  we 
gain  a  still  loftier  glimpse  of  London.  This  seems 
fairly  the  extent  of  any  faculties  less  agile  than  those 
of  a  monkey,  but  the  attendant,  who  seems  rather 
proud  of  our  enterprise,  calls  out  from  below, 
"  higher,''  and  small  brass  rods  at  last  reveal  them 
selves  in  the  ornaments,  which  become  stepping- 
stones  to  our  ambitious  footsteps.  Masculine  feet 
find  it  no  very  hard  matter  to  mount  them,  and  by 


WAYSIDE     SKETCHES.  107 

the  careful  assistance  and  direction  of  the  guide,  I 
find  myself  also  in  the  close  little  ball,  the  very  top 
most  step  of  the  lofty  Cathedral.  I  feel  rather  proud 
of  the  exploit,  and  shall  content  myself  with  this  feat 
in  the  way  of  climbing. 

"Facilis  descensus"  was  a  misnomer  upon  this  oc 
casion,  for  as  the  operation  is  to  be*  performed  by  the 
feet,  while  the  head  is  still  in  cloudland,  a  misstep  is 
possible,  and  would  prove  more  than  awkward. 

But,  by  the  same  kind  assistance,  my  blind  feet 
were  safely  planted  upon  the  lantern,  and  then  the 
descent  was  only  steep.  The  fee  which  my  kind 
friend  bestowed  upon  the  helpful  guide,  unlocked  his 
heart,  and  with  it  a  generally  forbidden  door,  which 
led  to  the  inner  Golden  Gallery,  from  which  immense 
height  we  looked  down,  not  only  upon  the  pavement 
and  the  pigmies  below,  but  upon  the  dome  itself. 
This  is  the  point  for  seeing  the  frescoes  of  the  dome, 
and  for  getting  a  realizing  sense  of  the  great  height 
of  the  building. 

Our  next  visit  was  to  the  crypts,  in  which  are  en 
tombed  the  remains  of  Reynolds,  Lawrence,  Fuseli, 
Turner,  West,  Wren,  and  Rennie.  There  lies  Kelson, 
in  his  granite  sarcophagus,  and,  last  and  greatest,  the 
Iron  Duke  himself,  the  great  Wellington.  His 
monument  is  of  porphyry,  and  inscribed  with  the 
list  of  his  victories.  Behind  it  stands  the  imposing 
funeral  car  upon  which  his  coffin  was  drawn  to  the 
tomb.  It  is  cast  from  the  cannon  captured  in  his 
successful  battles,  and  is  of  many  tons'  weight.  Upon 


108  WAYSIDE     SKETCHES. 

it  are  wrought  the  cap,  the  sword  and  Marshal's 
baton.  It  is  covered  with  a  heavy  pall,  and  sur 
mounted  by  costly  ostrich  plumes.  It  was  drawn  by 
twelve  horses,  which  are  here  represented  by  basket 
work,  covered  with  black  palls.  The  strong  founda 
tions  of  such  a  cathedral  make  a  fitting  resting-place 
for  the  dust  of  such  heroes. 

London  and  the  play  are  as  characteristically  inter 
woven  as  London  and  its  cathedrals,  so  in  the  evening 
we  went  to  the  nearest  theatre,  the  Adelphi,  and  saw 
some  very  good  playing  in  a  new  comedy,  "  The  Hen 
and  Chickens." 

Aug.  25.  Have  been  to  Westminster  Abbey  — 
through  its  crumbling  cloisters;  through  its  many 
chapels,  overlaid  with  tombs  and  effigies,  and  en 
shrining  the  noble  dust  of  ages.  King  and  Queen, 
noble  and  priest,  warrior  and  statesman,  philoso 
pher,  courtier  and  poet  make  these  dumb  walls 
eloquent.  Here  lie  most  of  the  royal  dead  of  Eng 
land,  from  Edward  the  Confessor  to  George  the 
Second.  Here,  from  Edward  to  Victoria,  have  the 
sovereigns  been  crowned.  The  chair  used  for  coro 
nation,  from  the  time  of  James  the  First,  is  a  heavy, 
plain  oaken  chair,  destitute  of  any  ornament.  It  is 
impossible  even  to  mention  the  tombs  of  interest,  or 
to  enumerate  the  tablets  of  the  Poet's  Corner — that 
shrine  for  the  pilgrimage  of  the  world.  The  tablets 
of  Shakspeare  and  Handel  pleased  me  most.  Han 
del's  finger  points  to  the  music  of  his  great  anthem, 
"  I  know  that  my  Redeemer  liveth."  Shakspeare 


WAYSIDE     SKETCHES.  109 

bears  a  scroll,  upon  which  is  inscribed  his  own  lines, 
"  The  cloud-capt  towers,  the  gorgeous  palaces,"  &c. 
Campbell  also  wears  his  finest  lines  as  his  own  in 
scription,  "  This  spirit  shall  return  to  Him,"  &c.  The 
numerous  chapels  contain  the  ancient  treasures  of 
the  Abbey  ;  the  royal  monuments  are  all  in  them. 
Even  Alary  of  Scots  rests  near  her  illustrious  cousin, 
and  the  remains  of  the  little  smothered  princes  are 
gathered  in  an  urn  among  their  kindred.  I  should 
need  to  copy  the  guide-book  to  enumerate  all  the 
tombs  that  interested  me.  Among  the  tablets,  one 
to  Ayrner  de  Valence  struck  me  with  many  roman 
tic  associations. 

One  scarcely  thinks  of  looking  at  the  Abbey  itself, 
there  is  so  much  more  in  it  than  of  it ;  although  if  one 
had  not  seen  York  Minster,  it  would  seem  more  im 
posing  for  its  own  sake.  I  have  unconsciously  taken 
that  grand  and  beautiful  structure  as  the  standard  of 
cathedrals,  and  must  needs  find  more  satisfaction  in  the 
associations  than  in  the  architecture  of  Westminster. 
It  is  extremely  unadorned,  except  by  the  memorials 
of  the  illustrious  dead.  The  arches  of  the  cloister 
windows,  as  restored,  are  beautiful,  but  the  ancient 
material  of  the  edifice  shows  painfully  the  ravages 
of  time,  and  seems  in  some  places  to  be  completely 
disintegrated,  a  mere  dust. 

The  playground  of  the  great  Westminster  school 
seemed  to  me  peculiarly  unattractive.  The  heavy 
stone  pavements  beneath  these  low  arches  seemed 
as  little  as  possible  like  a  place  for  schoolboy  amuse- 


110  WAYSIDE     SKETCHES. 

ments.  It  possesses  one  desideratum  for  tutors, 
there  is  nothing  by  which  boys  could  possibly  get 
into  mischief. 

We  went  to  the  Queen's  stables,  Pirnlico ;  saw  Her 
Majesty's  horses  and  carriages,  and  the  state  carriage 
for  the  royal  progress  upon  state  occasions.  It  is 
one  hundred  and  four  years  old,  is  ornamented  with 
painted  panels  and  gold,  and  weighs  four  tons.  It 
is  drawn  by  eight  cream-colored  stallions,  which  stand 
in  luxurious  idleness  meanwhile. 

The  horses  and  equipments  of  the  Master  of  the 
Horse  are  also  exhibited.  They  are  black,  with 
splendidly  mounted  black  harness ;  that  of  the  state 
horses  is  scarlet  and  gilt ;  altogether,  the  cavalcade 
must  have  a  dazzling  effect  when  in  full  train. 

Yisited  the  state  apartments  at  Windsor  Castle, 
for  which  an  order  is  necessary,  which  can  be  ob 
tained  free  upon  application  to  certain  specific  places 
in  the  city. 

The  very  name  of  Windsor  Castle  calls  up  the 
spectres  of  almost  a  thousand  years.  It  was  begun 
by  the  Conqueror,  and  has  received  additions  from 
almost  all  his  successors.  It  is  a  right  royal  home 
for  the  royal  lady  who  inhabits  it.  The  state 
apartments  are  stately,  but  not  elaborate.  Some  of 
them  are  adorned  with  Gibbons'  carvings,  but  I  think 
them  not  so  fine  here  as  at  Chatsworth.  There  are 
many  splendid  paintings  by  Vandyke,  Lely  and 
Lawrence ;  and  two  rooms  are  hung  with  Gobelin 
tapestry,  representing  scenes  from  the  book  of  Esther. 


WAYSIDE     SKETCHES.  Ill 

There  is  one  room  devoted  to  armor,  curious  weapons 
and  Indian  trophies.  The  private  apartments  are  in 
another  part  of  the  Castle,  which  seems,  in  extent, 
more  like  a  town  than  a  dwelling.  I  do  not  know 
how  large  acircuit  it  encloses,  but  it  must  be  many 
acres. 

The  famous  Windsor  Terrace  is  a  broad  walk, 
with  a  heavy  stone  balustrade  overlooking  the  Ter 
race  gardens  at  a  great  height  above  them.  The 
descent  immediately  below  is  a  great  depth,  and,  I 
fancy,  drops  into  the  ancient  moat.  The  wealth  of 
greenness  in  tree,  and  shrub,  and  vine,  which  man 
tles  the  depth,  is  perfectly  charming.  The  view 
takes  in  Eton  College,  at  no  great  distance.  Here  it 
is,  or  was,  the  custom  for  the  royal  family  to  walk  on 
Sunday  afternoons  in  the  sight  of  the  multitudes 
which  then  frequent  the  gardens. 

We  were  so  fortunate  as  to  be  in  time  for  service 
in  St  George's  Chapel,  a  beautiful  church.  The 
service  was  choral,  as  usual,  the  music  charming. 
After  service,  we  had  a  little  time  for  exploring  the 
chapel.  The  upper  part  of  the  screen  is  filled  with 
effigies  of  Knights  of  the  Bath ;  a  smooth  slab  in 
the  centre  of  the  choir  covers  the  remains  of  Henry 
the  Eighth ;  and  all  the  sovereigns  since  George  the 
Second  have  been  interred  in  the  chancel  vault. 
There  is  a  very  elegant  little  chapel  containing  a 
monument  to  the  Princess  Charlotte.  It  represents 
the  Princess  in  a  careless,  reclining  attitude,  envel 
oped  in  drapery,  which,  however,  reveals  entirely  the 


112  WAYSIDE     SKETCHES. 

outline  of  the  figure.  At  each  corner  of  the  couch 
kneels  a  figure  in  the  attitude  of  woe,  also  completely 
shrouded  in  drapery,  which  is  a  triumph  of  art  over 
stubborn  marble.  Behind  the  couch  is  a  sculpture 
representing  the  Princess  ascending,  attended  by  two 
angels,  one  of  whom  bears  her  infant  in  his  arms. 
We  went  also  through  the  cloisters. 

This  is  a  part  of  an  ecclesiastical  edifice  which 
touches  me  with  a  more  powerful  charm  than  even 
the  stately  aisles  and  the  lofty  arches.  The  green 
seclusion  speaks  of  peace  and  rest ;  while  the  busy 
fancy  readily  frames  pictures  of  the  past,  peopled 
with  the  long  succession  of  worthies  who,  though 
monks  and  friars,  were  human  still,  wrestling  with 
human  passions,  and  sorrows,  and  temptations,  as 
they  paced  these  quiet  precincts,  and  gazed  from 
these  windows,  now  shadowed  by  the  tenderness  of 
the  mantling  ivy ;  while  they  wove  in  the  loom  of 
Time  the  web  whose  ravelled  threads  we  here  gather 
up  with  reverent  care,  and  guard  from  contact  with 
the  tangled  skein  of  the  present. 

The  Home  Park  is  very  open ;  the  trees  are  all 
great  oaks,  planted  either  in  long  noble  avenues,  or 
in  simple  clumps,  and  are  the  grandest  specimens  of 
trees  that  I  have  ever  seen.  The  wide  open  expanse 
is  dotted  with  sheep.  We  have  learned  to  look  for 
this  unfailing  feature  of  park  and  field  —  England  is 
one  great  sheep  pasture. 

The  view  of  Windsor  from  the  direction  of  London 
is  very  impressive.  The  Castle  stands  high  and  dis- 


WAYSIDE     SKETCHES.  113 

i 

plays,  with  very  imposing  effect,  its  massive  walls  and 
stately  towers,  from  which  fly  the  royal  banners,  while 
the  masses  of  verdure  that  gather  around  its  base,  and 
the  river  which  encircles  it,  add  to  it  the  charm  of 
cultivation  and  beauty.  It  seemed  to  me  that  if  I 
had  been  suddenly  awakened  from  a  dream  upon 
the  other  side  of  the  Atlantic,  to  the  view  of  this 
kingly  abode,  I  should  not  have  failed  to  recognize 
it  as  English  and  royal. 

Windsor  and  Westminster !  we  have  known  them 
long  as  the  abode  of  sovereigns;  the  home  of  the 
living  and  the  resting-place  of  the  dead.  They  have 
lost  nothing  of  their  ideal  grandeur — the  reality 
exceeds  the  pictures  of  the  fancy. 

Aug.  26.  We  intended  to  have  visited  the  parks 
and  Kew  gardens,  but  the  weather  proving  unpropi- 
tious,  we  went,  instead,  to  the  Tower  and  the  British 
Museum. 

It  seemed  as  if  wild  beasts  were  the  necessary 
addenda  to  one's  idea  of  the  Tower,  and,  although 
they  have  been  long  removed,  the  Warden  told  us 
that  people  were  every  year  made  fools  on  the  first 
of  April,  by  being  sent  to  the  Tower  to  see  the  lions 
washed.  The  attendant  warden  was  in  the  uniform 
of  Henry  the  Eighth ;  a  tunic  of  blue  cloth  edged 
with  scarlet,  fastening  upon  the  shoulder,  and  wrought 
in  front  with  a  scarlet  crown.  The  hat  had  at  the 
base  of  its  large  crown,  a  wreath  of  red  and  blue 
knots,  like  rosettes.  We  saw  many  soldiers  here, 
wearing  medals  in  token  of  prowess  in  engagement. 


114  WAYSIDE     SKETCHES. 

An  East  Indian  regiment  which  had  been  fighting 
the  Sikhs,  was  on  duty. 

The  Armory  is  very  interesting.  Effigies  clad  in 
the  suits  of  armor  actually  worn  by  the  sovereigns 
and  nobles  of  England,  are  mounted  upon  mail-clad 
horses,  and  men-at-arms  and  squires  stand,  with 
lance  or  halberd  in  hand,  as  if  ready  for  the  tilt. 
Some  of  the  armor  and  arms  are  exquisitely  wrought 
and  inlaid.  There  are  also  weapons  from  every  scene 
of  conflict  in  which  England  has  borne  a  part 

A  large  part  of  the  old  Tower,  including  the  room 
in  which  Lady  Jane  Grrey  was  imprisoned,  has  been 
consumed  by  fire  and  rebuilt,  but  the  tower  still 
remains  in  which  Anne  Boleyn  was  confined ;  the 
one  in  which  the  little  princes  were  murdered, 
and  the  narrow,  dark  prison  in  which  Sir  Walter 
Raleigh  spent  twelve  years  of  his  life,  and  where  he 
wrote  the  History  of  the  World. 

The  state  prison  is  in  the  Beauchamp  Tower ;  its 
walls  are  covered  with  quaint  devices,  the  amuse 
ment  of  many  a  weary  hour.  Among  them  is  some 
of  the  work  of  Lord  Dudley,  and  the  name  of  Jane 
carved  by  his  own  hand. 

Within  the  Tower  yard  is  the  spot,  and  within  the 
Tower  is  the  block,  upon  which  were  beheaded 
Catharine  Howard,  Anne  Boleyn,  Lady  Jane  Grey, 
and  the  Earl  of  Essex  ;  the  last  being  the  only  man 
beheaded  within  the  walls.  The  heading  hill  is  just 
without  the  Tower  precincts,  and  peaceful  green 
trees  grow  upon  the  soil  watered  by  such  torrents  of 


WAYSIDE     SKETCHES.  115 

noble  blood.  Opposite  the  great  entrance,  the  Trai 
tor's  Grate  opens  to  the  river;  by  which  the  con 
demned  were  re-admitted  to  the  Tower.  To  such  a 
man  as  Sir  Thomas  More,  was  not  the  pang  of  enter 
ing  his  prison  under  the  obloquy  of  traitor,  sharper 
than  the  headsman's  sword  ? 

The  Crown  jewels  are  among  the  sights  of  the 
Tower.  The  magnificent  cro^wn  made  for  the  present 
Queen,  has  upon  the  top  a  Greek  cross,  composed 
entirely  of  diamonds,  having  a  very  large  one  in  the 
centre ;  a  large  ruby,  said  to  have  been  worn  by  the 
Black  Prince,  and  an  enormous  sapphire  glitter 
beneath  it ;  the  cap  is  of  crimson  velvet,  and  the 
band  is  studded  with  jewels.  The  ancient  crown, 
with  which  the  Queens-Consort  are  crowned,  is  pre 
served  here,  with  a  diadem  made  for  the  second  Queen 
of  James  the  Second ;  and  the  crown  of  the  Prince 
of  Wales,  of  plain  gold  without  jewels. 

There  are  sceptres  ;  the  royal  sceptre,  surmounted 
by  a  cross  ;  St.  Edward's  staff,  upon  which  is  an  orb  ; 
the  sceptre  of  equity,  supporting  a  dove  ;  the  Queen's 
sceptre;  one  of  ivory,  belonging  to  the  Queen  of 
James  the  Second,  and  another,  made  for  Mary  of 
Modena.  Then  there  are  swords,  temporal  and 
spiritual,  and  the  sword  of  Mercy,  without  an  edge. 
There  are  many  vessels  of  pure  gold,  among  which 
are  the  anointing  cup  and  spoon,  a  baptismal  font, 
a  wine  cooler,  a  salt-cellar  in  the  form  of  a  tall  castle ; 
if  I  remember  rightly,  this  article  was  a  present  from 
the  city  of  Bristol.  A  sacramental  service,  used  at 


116  WAYSIDE     SKETCHES. 

the  coronations,  and  thrice  a  year  besides,  and  several 
other  articles  of  the  same  precious  metal,  complete 
the  state  treasures.  A  model  of  the  great  diamond, 
the  Koh-i-noor,  is  kept  here,  but  not  the  jewel  itself. 
The  value  of  the  whole  display  is  reckoned  at  four 
million  pounds  sterling. 

The  best  exterior  view  of  the  Tower  is  from  the 
river,  and  the  structure  s^eems  necessary  to  the  identity 
of  London,  it  is  so  interwoven  with  its  history. 

The  British  Museum  is  a  bewildering  labyrinth 
of  all  the  wonders  of  nature,  in  flora,  fauna,  rock, 
precious  stone  and  fossil ;  and  of  art  in  various 
specimens  of  work  from  every  age  and  every  clime. 
From  the  skeleton  of  the  mighty  mastodon  of  our 
own  western  wilds,  down  to  the  minute  specs  of 
shelly  life,  every  gradation  of  existence  seems  to  be 
represented.  A  gigantic  ichthyosaurus  made  me 
inwardly  thankful  that  my  lot  was  not  cast  in  the 
reptilian  age ;  it  measured  eight  of  my  utmost  steps. 
A  splendid  mass  of  selenite,  from  Germany,  pre 
sented  by  Prince  Albert,  is  conspicuous  among  the 
minerals. 

The  libraries  of  the  Museum  contain  every  choice 
and  valuable  work  to  be  found.  It  has  been  en 
riched  by  the  gift  of  several  valuable  libraries,  since 
the  founder,  Hans  Sloane,  designed  the  beginning. 
The  reading  room  is  a  circular  room,  beneath  a  fine 
dome  one  hundred  and  forty-two  feet  in  diameter, 
surrounded  by  book-shelves,  to  which  two  gilded 
galleries  give  access.  And  here,  without  fee  or  re- 


WAYSIDE     SKETCHES.  117 

ward,  the  people  may  come,  upon  proper  introduction, 
and  read  and  write,  or  study  the  vast  accumulation 
of  knowledge  here  stored  up  by  national  and  indi 
vidual  munificence.  It  is  a  noble  institution,  and 
does  for  the  literary  world  what  no  amount  of  private 
wealth  and  research  could  ever  do. 

Being  foreigners,  we  were  kindly  given  an  order  of 
admission  to  this  speechless  room  ;  ladies,  however, 
being  permitted  to  advance  only  to  the  bar  just  within 
the  entrance ;  a  significant  utterance  of  the  reputa 
tion  of  the  sisterhood  on  the  score  of  silence.  I 
thought  it  would  have  been  a  pretty  device  to  have 
carved  a  rose  in  the  apex  of  the  dome.  I  was  more 
interested  in  the  autographs  of  the  Museum  than  in 
all  its  other  curiosities. 

The  letters  and  various  writings  of  authors,  states 
men,  warriors  and  sovereigns,  are  here  carefully  pre 
served.  Some  beautiful  penmanship  of  Queen  Eliza 
beth,  of  Edward  the  Sixth,  of  Lady  Jane  Grey,  are 
in  the  shape  of  books  of  prayer.  Here  is  the  original 
Magna  Charta,  much  defaced  by  fire.  There  are  au 
tograph  letters  from  the  distinguished  men  of  several 
generations,  Americans  among  the  rest;  Nelson's 
last  letter  unfinished  ;  and  there  are  the  manuscript 
copies  of  the  works  of  great  authors.  But  under  a 
glass,  apart  from  all  the  rest,  stands  a  frame  covered 
with  a  silk  curtain,  carefully  preserved  — and  for 
what  ?  It  is  only  a  deed  of  a  house,  but  one  little 
scrawl  in  the  corner  is  the  signature  of  k' Will  Shak- 
speare."  In  the  Museum  there  are  many  new  dis- 


118  W  A  Y  S  I  D  E     SKETCHES. 

coveries  of  statuary  and  sarcophagi,  especially  from 
Egypt ;  and  here  are  the  Elgin  marbles,  but  it  needs 
more  cultivation  than  I  possess  to  appreciate  them, 
and  one  wonders  how  Lord  Elgin  should  have  de 
spoiled  Greece  of  her  marble  treasures,  with  any  more 
propriety  than  Napoleon,  who  appropriated  the  works 
of  art  from  the  scenes  of  his  conquests. 

We  strolled  out  for  an  hour,  the  last  delightful  day 
of  our  stay  in  London,  and  saw  many  places  well 
known  to  us  by  book  and  picture.  We  passed  Tra 
falgar  Square,  where  was  once  the  village  of  Charing 
Cross ;  the  open  space  contains  several  monuments, 
the  principal  one  to  Nelson,  one  to  Napier,  and  also 
one  to  one  of  the  Georges.  We  saw  Northumber 
land  House,  the  Royal  Academy  and  National  Gal 
lery,  and  walked  down  Pall  Mall  to  see  the  rows  of 
club  houses.  We  passed  through  a  bazaar,  crowded 
with  every  purchasable  commodity  one  could  think 
of,  and  some  that  would  never  have  entered  my  un 
tutored  brain.  There  we  saw,  too,  the  far-famed 
Punch  and  Judy  —  the  automatic  delight  of  child 
hood  from  time  immemorial. 

The  rest  of  London  we  put  aside  reluctantly,  until 
we  shall  re- visit  the  great  city.  I  doubt  if  we  shall 
find  any  foreign  sights  that  will  eclipse  the  interest 
of  English  splendor  and  English  associations. 

In  leaving  England  I  would  record  an  unqualified 
dissent  from  a  commonly  received  notion  that  we 
must  find  the  English  brusque  and  ungracious.  The 
unfailing  well-bred  courtesy  of  equals,  and  the  un- 


WAYSIDE     SKETCHES.  119 

failing  respectful  civility  of  inferiors  have,  so  far  as 
our  experience  has  gone,  given  a  daily  refutation  of 
that  error,  and  goes  to  establish  that  which  I  like  to 
believe  true,  that  good  breeding  is  a  cosmopolitan 
virtue,  and  however  its  expression  may  differ  in 
small  matters  of  national  custom,  yet  it  recognizes 
its  shibboleth  in  the  glance  of  the  eye  and  the  tone 
of  the  voice,  and  gives  a  ready  response  to  the  claim 
upon  its  sympathies.  But  it  is  no  new  thing  to  find 
the  prejudices  of  the  multitude  exalt  a  mistake  into 
a  proverb,  and  because  it  is  a  proverb,  the  better 
informed  accept  it  as  a  truth. 


120  WAYSIDE     SKETCHES. 


CHAPTER   VI. 

BELGIUM. 

Ostend  —  Brussels  —  Waterloo  —  Antwerp  —  Malines  —  Cologne . 

AUG.  28.  Left  England  with  regret,  even  for  the 
continent  The  ride  through  the  Kentish  country 
is  decidedly  rural.  It  is  a  farming  region,  planted 
with  hops,  corn  and  potatoes,  and  villages  appear 
only  at  long  intervals. 

The  chalky  hills  of  Dover  soon  greeted  our  eyes, 
and  the  new  sea  washing  their  base.  I  thought  of 
Aunt  Betsey  Trotwood  as  we  looked  back  from  the 
harbor  upon  the  cottages  along  the  downs.  The  place 
has  a  foreign  air,  not  even  English,  as  it  seemed  to 
me.  I  suppose  it  is  of  necessity  that  the  ports  on 
both  sides  the  channel  should  have  something  of 
a  hybrid  effect.  We  embarked  in  a  little  steamer 
for  Ostend.  It  was  a  beautiful  day,  and  there 
seemed  no  earthly  reason  why  the  little  vessel 
should  perform  such  very  complicated  movements ; 
a  corresponding  movement  soon  took  place  among 
the  -passengers,  and  I  among  them  was  obliged 
to  betake  myself  to  a  state  of  prostration  in 
the  cabin,  until  the  sea  grew  smoother.  It  was 
both  ludicrous  and  vexatious,  to  be  forced  to 


WAYSIDE     SKETCHES.  121 

submit  to  the  tortures  of  sea-sickness  without  any 
apparent  reason.  But  the  roughness  was  of  short 
duration,  the  entire  passage  occupying  only  five 
hours  —  and  the  North  Sea  smooth  as  a  lake.  We 
had  the  Prince  and  Princess  de  Joinville  and  their 
children  on  board,  and  saw  their  reception  by  the 
Duke  of  Brabant,  at  Ostend.  We  wended  our  way 
to  the  Custom  House,  where  the  officials  performed 
a  cursory  examination  of  the  luggage.  No  sights 
can  ever  impress  one  with  the  sense  of  being  in  a 
foreign  land,  like  the  unfamiliar  sounds  ;  for  it  is  a 
very  different  thing  to  catch  the  confused  jargon  of 
tongues  in  a  mixed  multitude,  from  comprehending 
sentences  addressed  to  one's  self. 

We  fell  in  with  pleasant  English  people  in  the 
railway  carriage ;  came  on  to  Brussels  through  Bruges 
and  Ghent,  In  the  latter  city  some  dwellings  were 
pointed  out  to  us  as  Spanish  buildings  of  the  time  of 
the  Duke  of  Alva. 

Aug.  29.  Went  to  Waterloo  over  a  heavily  paved 
road,  through  a  flat  but  rather  pretty  country,  as  un 
like  England  as  possible.  The  wide  fields,  planted 
with  vegetables  and  grain,  are  without  fences,  and 
the  roads,  elevated  above  the  fields,  are  marked  by 
long,  straight  rows  of  stiff  trees,  carefully  trimmed 
of  all  the  lower  branches,  which  gives  them  the  look 
of  palms.  We  were  attended  with  more  than  Irish 
assiduity  by  rows  of  little  beggars,  who  ran  persist 
ently  beside  the  carriage,  varying  their  applications 
by  turning  a  somersault,  or  by  making  cartwheels  of 


122  WAYSIDE     SKETCHES. 

themselves  in  the  most  extraordinary  manner,  girls 
and  boys  alike.  The  bestowal  of  alms  silenced  them 
only  until  the  quarrel  which  it  occasioned  was  ad 
justed,  and  then  they  overtook  us  with  astounding 
celerity. 

We  passed  a  beautiful  wood,  called  the  forest  of 
Soigne.  It  is  very  closely  planted,  and  the  large 
trees  grow  tall  and  straight,  with  a  remarkable 
equality  of  height ;  the  turf  beneath  is  like  a  lawn, 
free  from  shrub  or  underbrush.  A  beautiful  avenue 
opens  through  it,  by  which  the  English  army  marched 
away  from  the  field  of  Waterloo. 

In  the  village  of  Waterloo  there  is  a  little  church, 
filled  with  memorial  tablets  to  those  who  fell  upon 
the  field,  and  there  is  a  good  bust  of  Wellington. 
Beyond  the  village  of  Waterloo  is  the  little  hamlet 
of  Mont  St.  Jean,  and  still  a  mile  beyond  this  is  the 
br,)ad  field  itself,  upon  which  the  fate  of  Europe  was 
decided.  The  various  points  of  interest  remain  much 
the  same  as  at  the  battle.  The  headquarters  of  both 
generals  are  preserved,  the  farm  house  where  Napo 
leon  spent  the  night  preceding  the  battle,  and  the 
points  of  the  extreme  wings  of  both  armies. 

At  the  central  point  of  the  English  line  a  huge 
mound  of  earth  has  been  thrown  up,  of  a  conical 
form,  sixteen  hundred  and  eighty  feet  in  circum 
ference,  and  three  hundred  feet  in  height,  including 
the  lion,  which  stands  on  a  high  table  at  the  summit, 
with  his  paw  upon  a  globe,  and  his  face  set  defiantly 
towards  France,  The  lordly  emblem  was  surrepti- 


WAYSIDE     SKETCHES.  123 

tiously  deprived  of  his  tail  during  the  sojourn  of 
some  French  troops  in  the  neighborhood,  but  their 
commanding  officer  compelled  its  restoration.  We 
climbed  the  steep  mound,  which  afforded  us  an  ex 
tended  view  of  all  the  localities  connected  with  the 
battle,  but  the  wind  was  too  high  to  allow  us,  the 
ladies,  to  scale  the  ladder  to  the  pavilion  on  the  back 
of  the  lion.  Indeed  the  feat  proved  too  much  for 
the  nerves  of  the  English  gentleman  of  the  party. 
We  visited  the  farm  of  the  Chateau  d'Hougoumont, 
the  point  of  most  fierce  attack  and  repulse ;  the 
house  and  the  garden  wall  are  still  riddled  with  the 
marks  of  the  cannon  balls.  The  little  chapel  of  the 
old  chateau  contains  an  image  of  the  Virgin,  which 
is  supposed  to  have  protected  it ;  a  spent  ball  having 
just  reached  her  feet,  whence  it  fell  harmless  to  the 
ground. 

The  guide  described  the  battle  and  its  position 
well.  One  could  almost  see  the  terrible  conflict,  the 
anxious  suspense,  and  the  overwhelming  despair  of 
the  brilliant  warrior,  as  he  fled  from  his  last  field, 
crushed  beyond  the  peradventure  of  escape. 

One's  faith  is  continually  put  to  the  test  by  the  pro 
duction  of  relics  purporting  to  have  been  taken  from 
the  field,  and  as  each  individual  case  is  possibly 
authentic,  it  is  just  as  well,  and  a  great  deal  less 
trouble,  to  take  their  genuineness  for  granted ;  but 
credulity  scarcely  extends  to  the  making  one's  self 
master  of  such  dubious  possessions. 

We  returned  to  Brussels  in  time  for  dinner,  which 


124  WAYSIDE     SKETCHES. 

is  an  event  in  the  Flemish  day.  The  elaborate 
courses,  and  the  delicate  variety  of  cookery,  are 
something  new  and  tempting ;  and  notwithstanding 
the  apparent  incongruity  of  some  of  the  concoctions, 
they  form  altogether  the  most  savory  viands  that  we 
have  found  abroad.  Each  article  is  served  in  a  sep 
arate  course,  with  a  change  of  plates.  One  could 
imagine  a  thirteenth  labor  of  Hercules  to  get  up  and 
clear  away  the  accumulations ;  and  there  are  two 
such  dinners  in  the  day. 

Aug.  30.  The  Sunday  morning  was  charming, 
and  we  went  to  the  Cathedral,  heard  splendid  music, 
and,  on  my  own  part,  saw  Romish  service  for  the 
first  time.  The  church  was  beautiful,  the  priests 
gorgeously  attired  in  robes  heavy  with  gold,  and  all 
the  paraphernalia  of  worship  was  magnificent;  but 
the  puerility  of  the  service  was  disappointing  and 
offensive. 

This  cathedral  has,  among  its  ornaments,  a  pulpit 
of  remarkable  wood  carving,  of  considerable  anti 
quity.  It  is  a  gorgeous  edifice,  but  hidden  away  at 
the  top  of  the  narrowest  of  streets,  and  no  stranger 
would  ever  light  upon  it  by  accident. 

We  came  home  through  streets  thronged  with 
people  in  holiday  attire,  and  gay  with  beautiful  shops, 
with  their  various  merchandises  displayed  in  tempt 
ing  array ;  there  being  evidently  no  distinction  be 
tween  Sunday  and  other  days,  except  in  the  increased 
gaiety.  In  the  afternoon  we  took  a  walk  upon  the 
boulevards  and  in  the  park,  where  we  found  a  fine 


WAYSIDE     SKETCHES.  125 

band  playing  classic  music,  and  all  the  world  was 
abroad,  as  at  a  fete.  This  is  a  really  beaufiful  city, 
the  streets  are  clean  and  well  built,  and  the  display 
of  warehouses  elegant.  There  are  dignitaries  at  our 
hotel.  The  Count  do  Boclensky  and  the  Prince  Von 
Altenberg. 

The  hotel  surrounds  a  large,  shaded,  paved  court, 
which  our  windows  overlook,  where  people  may  sit 
at  table,  and  enjoy  the  air  without  going  abroad.  It 
is  entered  through  the  house  by  a  porte  cochere,  and 
gives  a  pleasant  retirement  in  the  midst  of  a  city. 
We  begin  to  feel  like  foreigners,  where  no  English 
meets  our  ears,  except  from  a  chance  traveller.  The 
German  and  French  are  strangely  conglomerated  in 
a  mixture  called  the  Flemish.  The  medium  language, 
however,  is  French ;  waiters  and  officials  all  speak  it, 
and  some  are  sufficiently  versed  in  English  to  under 
stand  usual  orders. 

Aug.  31.  Malines,  formerly  Mechlin.  A  most 
charming  day.  Weather  has  smiled  upon  us  from 
the  day  of  our  embarkation,  and,  on  the  continent 
we  have  found  the  summer  which  we  missed  in 
England. 

We  left  Brussels  for  Antwerp,  a  fair  type  of  an 
ancient  Flemish  city.  There  we  saw  the  far-famed 
dykes  for  the  first-  time.  Our  first  visit  was  to  the 
Church  of  St.  Jacques.  It  is  most  attractive  in  the 
beauty  of  its  sculptured  marbles.  The  screen  of 
one  of  the  altars  is  carved  entire  from  one  piece  of 
marble,  with  exquisite  delicacy ;  representing  cher- 


126  WAYSIDE     SKETCHES. 

ubs,  flowers,  fruit  and  corn ;  one  figure  of  a  child  is 
remarkably  beautiful.  It  is  by  Yan  Bruggen.  The 
pillars  which  support  the  entablature  above-  two  of 
the  altars,  are  adorned  with  similar  sculpture,  and 
many  tablets  of  alto  relievo,  in  the  chapels,  are  per 
fect  gems.  One  chapel  in  particular,  contains  scenes 
of  the  crucifixion,  which  for  delicacy  and  purity  are 
wonderful. 

The  great  feature  of  the  church  is  the  sepulchre  of 
Rubens,  in  a  chapel  devoted  to  his  family.  Above 
his  tomb  hangs  one  of  his  own  paintings  ;  pictures 
of  himself,  his  two  wives,  his  children,  his  father, 
and  cousin.  On  either  side  of  the  same  chapel  is  a 
fine  piece  of  statuary  representing  two  reclining 
female  figures,  also  belonging  to  Rubens'  family. 
The  windows  of  the  church  are  very  beautiful,  and 
the  whole  building  is  so  crowded  with  choice  works 
of  art,  that  one  could  find  food  for  a  month's  stucty 
within  its  walls. 

We  did  not  attempt  to  visit  the  multitude  of 
churches,  in  each  of  which  is  stored  up  some  choice 
work,  but  went  only  to  the  cathedral,  beautiful  in  its. 
decorations  and  its  famous  tower. 

The  wealth  and  the  genius  of  centuries  have  been 
lavished  upon  these  vast  edifices,  and  they  bewilder 
one  with  the  multitude  of  beauties.  Here  were  costly 
shrines,  wonderful  carvings  in  wood,  fine  paintings, 
an(} —  Rubens'  Descent  from  the  Cross.  I  can  de 
scribe  it  only  by  its  name.  To  one  who  has  seen  it, 
that  is  sufficient,  and  to  one  who  has  not,  any  de- 


WAYSIDE     SKETCHES.  127 

scription  is  inadequate.  Artists  were  busy  at  their 
easels,  copying  the  splendid  painting,  but  the  mas 
ter's  strokes  set  their  power  at  defiance.  The  painful 
and  the  sublime  in  such  subjects  are  separated  by  a 
very  narrow  boundary ;  the  students  were  upon  one 
side,  and  the  master  immeasurably  upon  the  other. 
Over  the  High  Altar  is  Rubens'  Assumption,  and 
opposite  to  the  Descent  is  its  companion  picture,  the 
Elevation.  The  latter  is  a  great  picture,  but  so  much 
surpassed  by  the  Descent,  that  it  should  always  be 
shown  first,  in  order  to  receive  any  just  appreciation. 
In  one  of  the  chapels  is  a  Crucifixion,  by  Vandyke, 
which  seems  to  me  inferior  only  to  the  Descent. 

We  made  the  long  ascent  of  the  beautiful  tower, 
by  six  hundred  and  twenty-two  steps,  and  were 
amply  repaid  for  the  toil,  by  the  fine  view,  not  only 
of  the  city  with  its  quaint  buildings  and  narrow 
streets,  but  of  the  surrounding  country  far  and  wide, 
the  windings  of  the  Scheldt,  and  the  distant  sea. 
As  we  re-entered  the  church,  the  devout  had  come 
in  to  pray.  A  sort  of  halberdier,  wearing  insignia 
enough  to  be  mistaken  for  a  knight  of  all  the  orders 
of  the  continent,  was  stationed,  weapon  in  hand,  to 
enforce  proper  spirituality ;  and  by  way  of  accom 
plishing  that  excellent  purpose,  he  notified  my  friend 
that  she  was  not  permitted  to  lean  upon  her  husband's 
arm  during  the  hour  of  prayer.  After  having  swal 
lowed  the  camel,  Holy  Church  has  no  longer  capacity 
for  such  a  gnat. 

After  leaving  the  cathedral  we  drove  about  the 


128  WAYSIDE     SKETCHES. 

city,  saw  a  statue  of  Rubens,  and  the  house  in  which 
he  lived.  The  front  having  been  destroyed  by  fire, 
it  was  replaced  by  a  tasteful  building,  adorned  with 
sculpture,  and  surmounted  by  a  bust  of  the  great 
painter. 

Our  pleasant  drive  ended  with  a  circuit  of  the 
beautiful  public  gardens.  One  cannot  too  much 
admire  the  beneficence  which,  upon  these  eastern 
shores,  opens  such  fair  green  resorts  for  high  and  low, 
and  scatters  such  wealth  of  art  with  a  liberal  hand 
for  the  refreshing  and  cultivation  of  the  public  taste. 
I  loved  to  see  the  Flemish  woman  sitting  with  her 
knitting  in  these  lovely  gardens,  with  the  works  of 
the  great  sculptors  before  her  eyes,  educating  her 
unconsciously  into  the  love  of  the  beautiful,  and  the 
appreciation  of  art. 

The  al  fresco  life  here  is  very  picturesque ;  people 
take  their  lunch  at  little  tables  upon  the  sidewalks, 
or  in  the  pretty  courts  around  which  the  houses  are 
built,  and  undoubtedly  enjoy  both  pleasures  more 
for  their  combination. 

We  are  staying  this  beautiful  night  at  Malines, 
and  have  been  enjoying  the  glorious  moonlight  in  a 
balcony  overhanging  numberless  groups  of  rnerry 
people  seated  at  the  little  tables  below.  This  is  the 
point  of  convergence  for  the  northern  railways. 

We  have  just  missed  a  spectacle  which  was  con 
cluded  here  yesterday,  having  lasted  a  week,  which 
accounts  for  the  companies  of  queer  looking  priests 
upon  the  railway.  It  is  an  ecclesiastical  fete,  which 


WAYSIDE     SKETCHES.  129 

takes  place  here  once  in  twenty-five  years.  The 
whole  city  turns  out  daily  in  grand  cavalcade,  each 
profession  and  class  appearing  in  all  the  splendor  at 
its  command ;  the  ladies  of  the  city  in  full  dress, 
blazing  with  jewels,  while  the  treasures  of  the 
churches  are  borne  by  the  priests  in  full  canonicals. 
From  the  descriptions  we  have  heard,  it  must  have 
been  a  gorgeous  pageant. 

Sept,  1.  From  Malines  to  Cologne,  by  Liege, 
Verviers,  and  Aix-la-Chapelle,  the  railway  lies 
through  vast,  flat,  highly  cultivated  plains.  As  it 
approaches  Liege,  the  country  begins  to  roll  back 
upon  hills,  and,  after  crossing  the  Meuse,  becomes 
more  and  more  uneven,  until  the  plain  is  exchanged 
for  a  picturesque  combination  of  pretty  wooded  val 
leys,  with  cottages,  gardens,  and  country  seats,  and 
steep,  shaggy  cliffs,  where  broom  and  heather  re-ap 
pear,  welcome  as  old  friends. 

The  wildness  of  the  country,  watered  by  numerous 
streams,  and  reclaimed  by  cultivation  at  every  avail 
able  point,  is  very  charming. 

The  railway,  which,  by  the  way,  seems  in  Europe 
to  find  no  especial  obstacle  in  a  mountain,  is  cut 
through  many  tunnels,  and  carried  over  many  via 
ducts.  As  it  approaches  Liege,  the  descent  is  so 
sharp  that  the  locomotive  is  detached,  and  the  train 
let  down  by  cables  attached  to  an  ascending  engine. 

From  Horrem  to  Cologne  the  way  is  by  the  Ko- 
nigsdorf  tunnel,  right  through  a  mountain,  a  mile 
and  a  quarter  in  length ;  cutting  from  the  country 


130  WAYSIDE     SKETCHES. 

drained  by  the  Meuse,  into  the  valley  of  the  Rhine. 
There  are  many  pretty  towns  and  villages  dotting  the 
country,  and  occasionally  a  castle,  the  rude  remains 
of  feudal  life,  but  none  are  especially  picturesque. 
Cologne  has  the  narrow,  heavily-paved  streets  of  the 
other  towns  of  the  country,  but  we  did  not  find  it  so 
odorously  distinguished  from  the  rest  as  we  had 
been  led  to  expect.  The  luggage  passes  the  Prussian 
examination  here,  although  the  frontier  is  as  far 
back  as  Hebesthal.  Our  effects  being  evidently 
those  of  travellers  only,  were  not  touched.  Indeed, 
this  irksome  duty  is  every  where  performed  with"  as 
little  annoyance  as  possible. 

We  spent  this  afternoon  in  the  famed  Cathe 
dral,  a  grand,  unfinished  structure,  very  beautiful 
in  its  style  of  architecture,  and  especially  splen 
did  in  its  stained  windows.  Those  of  the  choir 
are  indescribably  beautiful ;  so  is  also  a  row  high 
above  the  inner  roof  now  in  process  of  construction, 
which  will  unfortunately  exclude  them  from  view. 
This  church  will  be  a  model  of  perfection  should  it 
ever  be  finished.  Workmen  are  busy  upon  it  at 
present,  and  the  great  organ  is  in  progress  of  repair, 
to  my  great  chagrin ;  the  hearing  of  this  organ  was 
one  of  my  pleasures  of  anticipation  in  Europe.  The 
absence  of  paintings  and  other  decorations  is  owing 
to  the  disordered  state  of  the  building.  Large  con 
tributions  have  been  lately  made  towards  its  comple 
tion,  and  the  King  gives  annually  thirty  thousand 
thalers  for  the  purpose. 


WAYSIDE     SKETCHES.  131 

We  ascended  the  tower,  and  had  a  fine  view  of  the 
city  and  the  far-famed  Khine.  The  ascent  to  these 
cathedral  towers  is  always,  for  a  part  of  the  way, 
by  outer  galleries,  which  enable  one  to  examine  the 
architecture  in  all  its  noble  combinations  of  turret, 
battlement,  flying  buttress  and  decorations,  and  you 
get  a  much  more  vivid  conception  of  their  height  and 
vastness,  than  by  simply  taking  a  bird's  eye  view,  at 
the  top  of  the  steeple. 

The  unfinished  tower,  moss-grown  with  age,  has 
still  the  crane  by  which  the  massive  stones  were  car 
ried,  but  we  did  not  venture  out  upon  the  dizzy,  un 
protected  verge. 

I  cannot  connect  the  idea  of  construction  with  such 
an  edifice  as  this.  It  seems  to  me  to  belong  to  the 
primeval  creation  as  much  as  a  mountain,  and  quiets 
the  busy  streets  like  a  superior  presence ;  wearing 
the  records  of  the  forgotten  ages  with  a  calm,  still 
grandeur  that  rebukes  the  pettiness  of  the  stream  of 
daily  life  flowing  beneath  its  shadow. 

We  took  a  delightful  drive  through  the  city  and 
the  park  beyond  its  limits,  following  the  bank  of  the 
river,  the  Khine  itself.  We  saw  the  house  in  which 
Eubens  was  born,  and  one  in  which  lived  Mary  of 
Medicis.  In  passing  a  handsome  house,  the  commis 
sioner  pointed  out  two  white  wooden  horses  project 
ing  from  an  upper  story  window,  serving  to  mark 
the  place  where,  hundreds  of  years  ago,  lived  a  lady, 
who,  having  suddenly  died,  was  interred  in  a  tomb. 
Some  one,  coveting  a  ring  upon  her  finger,  entered 


132  WAYSIDE     SKETCHES. 

the  shrine,  and  using  force  to  remove  the  ring  from 
her  finger,  she  revived.  On  returning  to  her  house, 
the  terrified  servant  who  met  her  at  the  door,  has 
tened  to  acquaint  the  husband  with  the  astounding 
intelligence  of  his  wife's  return.  The  Baron  imme 
diately  replied  that  he  would  quite  as  readily  believe 
his  horses  to  be  in  the  upper  story ;  whereupon,  as 
the  legend  ran,  according  to  the  commissioner,  the 
horses  were  found  looking  out  at  the  upper  window. 
The  miracle  overcame  the  Baron's  incredulity,  and 
he  accepted  both  the  fact  and  his  wife ;  and  there 
these  commemorative  horses  have  remained  for  six 
hundred  years. 

The  official  aforesaid,  by  way  of  vindicating  his 
claim  to  the  knowledge  of  French,  Grerman  and 
English,  threw  the  vocabularies  of  the  three  lan 
guages  into  pi,  and  left  each  native  to  select  the 
words  which  he  best  understood.  The  result  was 
an  occasional  bit  of  information,  extracted  like  a 
tooth. 

The  space  near  our  pleasant  hotel  is  filled  with 
women  and  girls,  sitting  beside  their  baskets  of  fruit ; 
a  grateful  sight,  and  very  suggestive  to  palates  de 
prived  of  the  usual  summer  luxuries  of  American 
abundance. 

Sept.  2.  We  went  to  visit  the  Church  of  St.  Peter 
for  the  sake  of  seeing  Rubens'  picture  of  the  Cruci 
fixion  of  St.  Peter.  On  our  way  we  passed  through 
the  Church  of  St.  Mary,  situated  where  the  capitol 
of  the  Romans  once  stood. 


WAYSIDE     SKETCHES.  133 

It  has  no  feature  of  interest,  except  its  great  an 
tiquity,  having  been  built  in  the  eleventh  century. 
The  Church  of  St.  Gereon  bears  date  1066.  We 
were  invited  to  examine  the  relics  of  eleven  thousand 
virgins,  in  the  convent  of  St.  Ursula,  but  took  them 
for  granted,  as  not  being  among  the  specific  objects 
of  our  trip. 

At  St.  Peter's,  instead  of  the  pleasure*  of  seeing  the 
desired  picture,  which  was  presented  by  Eubens,  in 
consideration  of  his  having  been  baptized  in  the 
church,  we  came  upon  a  service  of  high  mass  ;  and, 
after  consuming  a  precious  hour  in  waiting  for  the 
cessation  of  the  censer-swinging  and  genuflections, 
we  were  forced  to  come  away  unsatisfied.  It  was 
curious  to  see  oleanders  and  other  shrubs  in  large 
boxes,  standing  about  the  pavement  of  the  church, 
making  a  verdant  bower  of  the  aisles.  While  the 
priests  went  through  their  elaborate  offices  at  the 
altar,  I  was  much  interested  in  watching  the  common 
people,  as  they  dropped  in,  with  their  market  baskets 
in  their  hands,  and  with  all  the  tokens  of  their  ordi 
nary  avocations  about  them.  They  crossed  them 
selves  at  the  benetier,  fell  upon  their  knees,  repeated 
their  prayers,  and  went  on  their  way.  Whatever  the 
creed,  there  is  something  very  touching  in  this  unaf 
fected  mingling  of  religious  service  with  the  homely 
duties  of  life,  far  more  than  in  the  gorgeous  service 
which  was  going  on  in  the  other  end  of  the  church. 
The  music  was  very  fine,  and  the  harmonies  that 
swelled  up  through  the  roof,  from  organ  and  choir, 


184  WAYSIDE     SKETCHES. 

were  like  those  with  which  we  have  been,  long  familiar 
in  the  grand  old  German  tunes  at  home. 

We  grew  weary  of  the  protracted  service,  and 
went  away  to  the  "Walraff  Kichartz  Museum,  a  noble 
building,  filled  with  choice  pictures  of  all  the  Ger 
man  schools.  One  of  the  great  beauties  of  the  exhi 
bition  is  the  exquisite  painting  upon  glass.  Scenes 
of  exceeding  delicacy,  both  sacred  and  secular,  are 
delineated  with  a  softness  and  richness  of  coloring, 
not  to  be  equalled  upon  an  opaque  surface.  Among 
the  most  charming  were,  the  Adoration  of  the  Magi ; 
a  Madonna  and  child ;  a  Boat  Scene,  very  lovely ; 
three  children  drifting  down  a  stream,  having  lost  an 
oar,  which  the  boy  is  vainly  endeavoring  to  regain ; 
one  little  one  has  sunk  down  in  helpless  grief;  the 
other  encourages  her  brother,  while  they  are  all  una 
ware  of  the  near  approach  of  safety  in  the  person  of 
the  father,  whose  vigorous  strokes  have  brought  him 
within  an  oar's-length  of  the  little  mariners.  Peter 
Walking  upon  the  Sea,  is  very  beautiful ;  and  there  is  a 
simple,  lovely,  suggestive  picture  of  a  weary  maiden 
standing  in  the  heat  of  the  sun  upon  the1  threshold  of 
a  convent,  while  in  the  cool  shadow  within  the  door, 
stands  a  sister,  bidding  her  welcome. 

We  saw  also  pictures  by  Vandyke,  Teniers,  Hol 
bein,  Rubens,  and  others  of  their  several  schools. 
•  Pre-eminent  among  them  is  Rubens'  Prometheus. 
The  straining  muscles,  the  agonized  countenance,  the 
writhing  form  of  the  sufferer,  and  the  eager,  fluttering 
ravenous  clutch  of  the  vulture,  are  intensely  real. 


p 
WAYSIDE     SKETCHES.  135 

In  the  same  room  is  a  modern  painting  of  great 
dignity,  by  Leinwand  ;  Galileo  in  Prison.  The  phi 
losopher  stands  at  his  full,  stately  height,  his  inward 
eyes  looking  far  beyond  his  narrow  cell,  while  yet 
his  patient  brow  bears  the  marks  of  his  long  con 
finement.  His  window  is  darkened  by  a  group  of 
idle  starers  from  without,  of  whom  he  is  either  un 
conscious  or  disdainful. 

Another  picture  in  the  same  room  is  charming  ; 
"  By  the  Euins  of  Babylon  ;  "  there  is  also  a  very 
forcible  picture  of  Cromwell  beside  his  dying  daughter. 
Another  striking  picture  is  one  of  a  sinking  French 
ship  at  the  battle  of  Trafalgar.  The  eagerness  with 
which  the  sailors  watch  the  tide  of  battle,  as  they 
cling  to  the  masts  and  rigging,  shows  that  the  intense 
interest  of  the  fight,  and  the  fierceness  of  the  shame 
and  disappointment  of  defeat  have  swallowed  the 
thought  of  their  own  danger. 

There  are  very  ancient  pictures  in  the  collection, 
and,  to  my  untutored  eyes,  the  only  merit  of  many 
of  them  lies  in  their  antiquity.  It  is  strange  to  me, 
that  with  nature  ever  before  the  eye,  the  artists  of 
long  ago  should  so  often  produce  distorted  and  un 
natural  imitations  of  her  works.  The  coloring  of 
these  pictures  is  wonderfully  fresh,  but  the  concep 
tions  of  the  present  age,  are  certainly  more  true  to 
nature,  than  the  ideal  of  six  hundred  years  ago.  A 
painting  of  the  Last  Judgment  has  a  novelty  of  con 
ception  which  succeeds  in  arriving  at  the  comic,  even 
in  the  face  of  solemnity.  The  devils  hold  a  firm 


136  WAYSIDE     SKETCHES. 

grasp  upon  sundry  dignitaries  and  respectable  sinners ; 
cardinal  and  monk  struggle  in  sometimes  dubious 
strife  with  their  adversaries  ;  the  painter  must  have 
incurred  the  risk  of  an  auto  da  fe  for  his  profane 
suggestions.  The  miser  finds  retribution  in  gold 
thrust  down  his  throat,  while  the  hypocrite  goes 
reluctantly  downward,  still  wearing  his  sanctimonious 
aspect,  and  clasping  his  missal  to  his  breast.  On  the 
other  hand,  a  troop  of  the  blessed  (suggestively  fem 
inine)  enter  a  door  guarded  by  St.  Peter  with  his 
keys.  There  are  scores  of  Madonnas  and  impossible 
angels,  but,  ancient  as  they  may  be,  one  of  the  sweet 
glass  paintings  is  worth  them  all. 

On  our  way  home  we  made  some  purchases  of 
fruit,  consciously  at  incredible  disadvantage,  in  con 
sequence  of  that  ancient  disturbance  at  the  tower  of 
Babel.  Nothing  was  spoken  or  understood  except 
German,  and  the  names  of  the  coins  and  the  numer 
als  in  practical  Dutch  were  very  different  from  those 
of  the  guide  books.  It  was  excessively  ridiculous 
to  stand  silently  by,  and  see  ourselves  imposed  upon 
by  the  demure  women,  who  had  little  idea  that  we 
were  impotently  aware  of  their  dishonorable  tenden 
cies.  It  was  very  homelike  to  see  peaches  again, 
even  under  the  shadow  of  Dutch  cupidity. 


WAYSIDE     SKETCHES.  137 


CHAPTER   VII. 

GERMANY. 


Konigswenter  —  Drachenfels  —  The    Rhine  —  Mayence  —  Weisbaden  —  Frank 
fort  —  Baden  Baden  —  Strasbourg  —  Basle. 


LEFT  Cologne  by  steamer  for  the  passage  up  the 
Rhine.  A  handsome  pontoon  bridge  crosses  the 
river  just  above  the  landing.  There  is  little  of  inter 
est  upon  the  flat  banks  between  Cologne  and  Bonn. 
The  grandeur  of  the  Cathedral  dawns  upon  one 
more  distinctly  in  receding  from  the  city ;  long  after 
the  town  has  sunk  to  a  mere  inequality  upon  the 
horizon,  the  great  edifice  stands  up  looming  against 
the  sky.  Above  Bonn,  the  border  of  the  river  be 
comes  broken,  and  the  seven  mountains  stretch 
across  the  view.  They  come  thronging  to  the  river, 
the  Oalberg,  the  Wolkenberg,  the  Lowenberg,  the 
Nonen-Stromburg,  the  Drachenfels,  and  the  Hem- 
merich. 

The  afternoon  was  charming,  and  'there  was  abun 
dant  time  to  ascend  the  Drachenfels,  and  watch  the 
sunset,  and  the  shadows  deepening  in  the  defile 
through  which  the  river  cuts  its  way.  We  landed  at 
Konigswenter,  where  one  of  the  Caesars  was  impris 
oned  by  the  winter  snows,  and  proceeded  to  make 
10 


138  WAYSIDE     SKETCHES. 

the  ascent  of  the  mountain;  my  friends  on  foot, 
myself  upon  a  donkey.  The  creature  being  pur 
posely  trained  to  obey  neither  voice,  bit,  nor  whip, 
required  a  leader,  and  a  guide  attended  to  make 
"  explications ;"  an  imposition  which  one,  in  due  time, 
learns  to  avoid. 

The  ascent  is  by  a  good  road  to  the  very  summit, 
and  might  easily  be  driven  in  a  carriage.  Here  we 
saw  the  first  vineyards.  The  vines  are  trained  upon 
short  poles,  like  beans,  and  at  a  little  distance,  pre 
sent  the  appearance  of  corn  in  its  early  growth. 

There  is  a  fine  succession  of  views  at  the  various 
turns  of  the  road;  the  country  is  very  pretty,  and 
the  whole  course  of  the  winding  river  is  visible  for 
many  miles.  Far  in  the  distant  horizon  looms  up 
the  grand  cathedral,  keeping  watch  over  the  now 
invisible  city  beneath.  In  the  other  direction  are  the 
pretty  island  of  Konnenworth  and  the  castle  of  Ko- 
landseck. 

The  views  from  this  summit  are  very  extensive, 
but  do  not  compare  in  majesty  with  the  wonderful 
sights  from  Ben  Lomond.  The  castle  of  Drachen- 
fels  is  a  complete  ruin,  picturesque  in  the  distance, 
but  clumsy  upon  near  approach.  A  monument 
stands  on  the  brow  of  the  mountain,  commemorating 
the  passage  of  the  Khine  in  1814.  I  climbed  a  steep 
cliff  below  the  ruin,  while  awaiting  the  arrival  of  the 
pedestrians,  and  caught  glimpses  of  a  lone,  sweet 
path,  leading  among  the  clustered  hills,  and  the  long 
dim  line  which  marked  the  way  to  the  chapel  on  the 


WAYSIDE     SKETCHES.  139 

Petersberg.  We  sat  at  the  foot  of  the  ruined  walls, 
and  watched  the  twilight  gathering  upon  the  river 
and  its  pretty  banks,  while  we  were  still  in  the 
full  rays  of  the  level  light,  until  the  sunset  warned  us 
to  return. 

I  unluckily  asked  the  donkey  leader  for  a  bit  of 
our  old  friend,  the  heather,  which  was  blooming  in  a 
cleft  of  the  rocks ;  whereupon,  inferring  my  general 
fondness  for  vegetation,  he  deserted  his  charge  for 
every  blossoming  weed  that  sprang  up  by  the  way, 
and  presented  me,  at  the  foot  of  the  hill,  with  a 
bundle  of  the  green  things  of  the  earth,  wondrous  to 
behold.  Meanwhile,  the  wretched  little  brute,  taking 
dishonorable  advantage  of  his  master's  gallantry, 
made  sudden  incursions  into  the  wayside  vineyards 
after  clusters  of  green  grapes ;  or,  watching  his  oppor 
tunity,  he  set  off  down  the  steep  hill  at  a  pace  that 
threatened  to  make  a  projectile  of  his  rider.  The 
one  advantage  of  donkey  riding,  is  the  ease  with 
which  one  can  disengage  himself  from  the  precarious 
seat,  and  step  to  the  ground,  when  the  creature's 
antics  become  intolerable. 

About  half  way  down  the  mountain,  is  a  secluded 
dwelling  of  considerable  pretensions,  belonging  to  a 
gentleman  who  has  made  a  fortune  in  America,  and 
has  returned  to  enjoy  it  in  his  own  land  of  legend 
and  song. 

We  supped  in  a  vine-embowered  piazza,  overhang 
ing  the  Ehine,  with  only  German  voices  in  our  ears, 
and  foreign  sights  for  our  eyes ;  and,  as  I  am  going  to 


140  WAYSIDE     SKETCHES. 

bed,  those  for  whom  I  write  are  sitting  down  to 
dinner ;  not,  I  venture  to  say,  without  some  kindly 
thoughts  for  the  absent,  whose  nightly  benediction 
goes  forth  upon  the  western  sky. 

Sept.  3.  We  rose  early,  to  leave  Konigswenter 
by  the  first  boat,  but,  to  our  chagrin,  she  was  so  far 
in  advance  of  her  regular  time,  that  we  were  left 
behind,  to  the  serious  derangement  of  the  programme 
of  the.  day.  We  found  sufficient  amusement,  how 
ever,  in  watching  the  troops  of  women  and  maidens 
in  snowy  caps  and  aprons,  coming  up  from  the  mar 
ket  boats,  with  laden  baskets  upon  their  heads,  and 
ranging  themselves  upon  the  stones  of  the  small 
square  court  behind  the  hotel.  There  was  a  shrine 
and  a  fountain  for  their  comfort,  but  neither  seat  nor 
shelter.  The  women  took  their  stand  beside  their 
baskets,  their  fingers  busy  with  their  knitting,  while 
they  awaited  their  customers. 

We  replenished  our  fruit  basket  with  better  suc 
cess  than  at  Cologne,  either  on  account  of  our  own 
improved  quickness  of  comprehension,  or  from  the 
superior  honesty  of  the  merchants,  and  were  ready  for 
the  boat  at  nine. 

We  had  purposed  leaving  the  river,  and  crossing 
some  of  the  bordering  hills,  to  vary  the  scenery,  but 
were  deterred  by  the  assurance  of  experienced  travel 
lers  that  we  could  enjoy  the  Khine  region  no  where 
so  well  as  by  remaining  on  the  river. 

And  a  beautiful  river  it  is  ;  sometimes  bordered  by 
yine-clad  hills,  sometimes  by  rocky  cliffs ;  sometimes 


WAYSIDE     SKETCHES.  141 

the  country  sinks  into  plain  and  valley,  always  pic 
turesque,  and  always  possessing  the  interest  of  ancient 
association  and  ruins  of  legendary  attraction. 

It  is  wonderful  to  see  with  what  minute  and  pa 
tient  toil  the  rocky  face  of  the  mountain  is  made 
productive,  where  seems  scarcely  roothold  for  a  lichen. 

The  acclivity  is  terraced,  and  the  narrow  beds 
covered  with  soil,  often  transported  thither  for  the 
purpose ;  and  the  vine  is  planted  where  the  clinging 
tendrils  may  find  support  from  the  very  ruggedness 
of  the  cliff.  When  there  is  not  even  a  practicable 
spot  for  a  plantation,  baskets  filled  with  earth  are 
suspended  from  the  rocks,  and  from  them  the  plants 
twine  upward.  Nevertheless,  the  vineyards  of  the 
Ehine  are  not  in  themselves  picturesque ;  they  are 
pruned  too  closely  to  retain  their  proper  grace,  and 
look  stiff  and  stunted. 

The  banks  of  the  river  do  not  need  them  for 
beauty,  being  so  diversified  in  natural  features  as  to 
present  some  new  attraction  at  every  turn.  Never 
theless,  I  am  undeniably  disappointed  in  the  Ehine. 
The  fault  is  evidently  in  my  own  misconception,  and 
not  in  the  scenery.  I  had  supposed  it  to  be  even 
more  grand  than  the  Highlands  of  the  Hudson  ;  and, 
except  in  the  length  of  the  Highlands,  and  in  the 
ancient  ruins  that  crown  their  summits,  it  is  inferior 
to  our  own  river.  It  lacks  the  majesty  of  the  mighty 
mountains  that  bathe  their  feet  deep  in  the  magnifi 
cent  river,  and  lift  their  solemn  heads  with  imperial 
grandeur  to  the  clouds. 


142  WAYSIDE     SKETCHES. 

The  Rhineland  is,  instead,  exceedingly  beautiful. 
The  river,  after  a  most  unusual  fashion,  widens  as  it 
nears  its  source.  The  lovely  islands  that  dot  its 
bosom  have  each  their  own  legend,  and  the  ruined 
castles  that  crown  every  promontory  speak  forcibly 
of  the  importance  attached  to  this  frontier  ages  ago. 

It  was,  even  then,  evidently  a  populous  country, 
and  the  grape  hung  its  fair  clusters  over  these  rocky 
terraces  before  the  iron  heel  of  Eome  was  planted  in 
their  borders. 

The  points  of  the  route  which  had  the  most  inter 
est  for  us,  were  the  ruin  of  Rolandseck  and  the  ad 
jacent  island  of  Nonnenworth  ;  the  frowning  fortifi 
cations  on  the  rocky  eminence  of  Ehrenbreitstein, 
opposite  Coblenz ;  the  black  perpendicular  rock  of 
Lorelei ;  the  castle  of  Stolzenfels,  the  possession  of  the 
crown  Princess  of  Prussia ;  and,  the  most  exquisite 
spot  of  the  whole  river,  Eheinstein.  This  has  been 
fitted  up  for  the  summer  residence  of  the  King  of 
Prussia,  and  is  the  most  charming  of  green  nests, 
perched  upon  the  crest  of  the  rock,  and  adorned  with 
all  the  rustic  beauty  that  wealth  and  taste  could 
bestow  upon  a  position  of  great  natural  advantages. 

Hatto's  Tower  still  stands  as  a  warning  to  those 
who  would  oppress  the  poor,  although  I  believe  plain 
truth  exonerates  the  prelate  from  the  odium  of  the 
legend.  But  what  respectability  can  cope  with  a 
popular  legend?  The  "  pale  waves  of  Nahe  "  empty 
into  the  Rhine  just  below  "  dear  Bingen,"  and  the 
blue  Moselle  debouches  at  Coblenz.  Beyond  Bingen, 


WAYSIDE     SKETCHES.  143 

the  abundant  rain  and  the  dimness  of  early  evening 
prevented  our  seeing  any  thing  except  the  quite  unin 
teresting  villages  that  cluster  upon  the  banks. 

We  found  Mayence  a  very  German  city ;  what 
motive,  even  in  the  rudest  times,  could  have  induced 
such  narrow,  tortuous  lanes  to  erect  themselves  into 
streets,  it  would  be  difficult  to  conceive. 

We  went  to  the  Museum  and  the  Dom  Kirche,  or 
Cathedral.  The  former  contains  an  extensive  collec 
tion  of  Koman  altars  and  other  curious  antiquities 
found  in  the  neighborhood  of  Mayence ;  a  large  num 
ber  of  pictures,  some  very  good ;  an  astronomical 
clock ;  a  model  of  the  stone  bridge  which  Napoleon 
projected  for  the  Rhine,  and  an  unusually  extensive 
collection  of  zoological  specimens.  The  Cathedral 
differs  from  any  other  that  we  have  seen.  It  has  two 
choirs  and  two  cupolas.  The  eastern  choir  dates  back 
as  far  as  900  A.  D. ;  the  other,  of  the  twelfth  cen 
tury,  looks  as  fresh  as  if  just  completed.  Its  win 
dows  are  very  beautiful.  The  old  choir  contains, 
among  several  ancient  tombs,  the  sepulchre  of  Fas- 
trada,  the  wife  of  Charlemagne.  The  Dom  has  a 
fine  exterior  effect,  and  crowns  the  city  with  a  some 
what  imposing  magnificence. 

The  garrisons  of  the  Austrian  and  the  Prussian 
powers  seem  to  be  the  most  important  considerations 
of  the  city.  Ten  thousand  troops  are  quartered 
here,  and  overshadow  the  common  citizens,  forming 
one  fifth  of  the  entire  population,  and  proving  an 
institution  far  from  peaceful. 


144  WAYSIDE     SKETCHES. 

In  crossing  the  river  to  Castel,  we  observed,  as  we 
had  done  at  several  places  farther  down,  a  row  of 
boats,  anchored  without  any  apparent  purpose  in  the 
middle  of  the  stream.  We  found  them  to  be  mills 
for  grain,  the  wheels  turned  by  the  current  alone. 

Sept.  4.  From  Mayence  we  went  to  Wiesbaden, 
the  beautiful  watering  place  and  resort  for  both 
foreigners  and  natives.  It  is  a  lovely  place,  and 
every  appliance  is  added  to  render  it  inviting.  The 
gardens  and  public  walks  are  delightfully  laid  out, 
and  the  Kursaal,  the  great  point  of  attraction,  is  a 
splendid  place. 

It  is  a  succession  of  elegant  halls  and  saloons; 
some  intended  for  music,  some  for  reading,  some  for 
lounging  and  conversation,  but  most  of  all  for  the 
great  business  of  the  place,  the  gaming  tables.  It 
was  a  deplorable  sight  to  watch  these  tables,  filled 
with  men — to  the  honor  of  the  sex,  there  were  few 
women — deliberately  casting  wealth  and  honor  on 
the  chances  of  a  ball.  I  could  only  think  of  the 
anxious  hearts  hidden  beneath  the  well-tutored  coun 
tenances.  The  polite  officials  of  the  police  were 
every  where  at  hand,  to  check  any  external  demon 
stration,  but  they  could  not  subdue  all  the  expres 
sions  of  feverish  interest  at  the  turn  of  the  wheel.  I 
breathed  more  freely  in  the  open  air.  The  gardens 
of  the  Kursaal  are  elegant  and  spacious,  and  the  ad 
joining  colonnades  are  filled  with  displays  of  all 
tempting  merchandise. 

The  hot  spring  boils  up  from  a  fountain  near  the 


WAYSIDE     SKETCHES.  145 

baths.  Its  temperature  is  160°  Fahrenheit,  and  it 
tastes  like  weak  chicken  broth.  After  proving  its 
properties,  we  drove  through  wide  smooth  avenues 
to  the  Greek  chapel,  which  commands  a  view  of 
Wiesbaden.  It  is  a  monument  chapel  to  the  first 
wife  of  the  Duke  of  Nassau,  and  contains  her  tomb, 
with  a  beautiful  portrait  effigy  of  the  Dutchess  in 
Carrara  marble,  by  Hofgard  of  Biberich. 

The  royal  lady  was  a  niece  of  the  present  Czar, 
being  the  daughter  of  the  Grand  Duke  Michael. 
She  died  at  the  age  of  nineteen.  The  chapel  is  a 
perfect  gem,  filled  with  small  exquisite  paintings  by 
Nef,  of  St.  Petersburgh.  The  dome  is  in  gilded 
frescoes,  and  the  reading  desk  is  overlaid  with 
enamels,  representing  scenes  in  the  life  of  our  Saviour. 
The  chapel  is  very  small,  but  perfect  of  its  kind,  and 
its  gilded  domes  form  a  conspicuous  object  from  a 
distance.  From  Wiesbaden  we  came  to  Frankfort, 
just  too  late  to  assist  at  the  congress  of  crowned  heads. 
I  trust  they  did  not  suffer  seriously  from  our  absence. 

Sept,  5.  Frankfort.  We  first  visited  the  Cathe 
dral,  which,  however,  offers  little  of  interest  beyond 
having  been  the  scene  of  the  coronation  of  the  Ger 
man  emperors.  We  ascended  the  tower,  which  we 
reached  by  three  hundred  and  eighteen  steps ;  and 
at  the  top,  what  was  our  surprise  to  find  the  dome 
inhabited  by  a  family  of  six  persons.  The  effect  of 
finding  household  avocations  going  on  in  such  an 
eyrie  was  ludicrous.  The  appearance  of  the  family, 
however,  was  not  that  of  people  lifted  above  the 


146  WAYSIDE     SKETCHES. 

cares  of  common  life ;  and  the  master  repudiated  the 
suggestion  of  ray  friend  that  he  must  be  nearer 
Heaven  than  his  neighbors.  He  is  the  fireman,  and 
is  stationed  here,  ready  for  alarm. 

I  looked  over  the  battlement  as  he  spoke  of  his 
little  children,  and  thought,  with  a  shudder,  of  the 
celerity  with  which  my  Young  Americans  would  be 
sure  to  make  the  descent  if  they  were  denizens  of 
this  airy  abode.  The  tower  commands  a  fine  view 
of  the  Maine,  and  the  villages  and  mountains  in  the 
distance. 

We  drove  through  the  principal  streets  of  the  city, 
and  our  coachman,  although  unable  to  speak  any 
thing  except  German,  was  very  intelligent,  and  more 
over,  much  interested  in  doing  the  honors  of  his  city. 
All  sorts  of  traffic  seems  to  be  carried  on  in  the  streets, 
and  it  was  a  mystery  how  the  driver  managed  to 
thread  the  narrow  ways  among  the  throngs  of  brittle 
wares  upon  the  pavement,  without  causing  extensive 
destruction. 

It  is  pleasant  to  meet  the  kindly  looks  and  friendly 
greetings  which  you  are  sure  to  receive  from  the 
people  here.  In  the  Boss  Market,  an  open  space 
near  our  hotel,  is  a  group  of  statuary,  representing 
the  three  great  prophets  of  printing,  Faust,  Guten 
berg,  and  Schoffer.  A  fine  statue  of  Goethe  stands 
in  another  square,  and  at  its  foot  lay  a  fresh  garland, 
and  another  hung  over  the  door  of  his  own  house 
The  seeming  incongruity  of  the  German  in  the  ab 
stract,  and  the  German  as  individual,  is  a  continual 


WAYSIDE     SKETCHES.  147 

puzzle  to  me ;  the  one  full  of  poetry,  music,  and  the 
spiritual ;  the  other  of  beer,  smoke,  and  the  physical. 
Imagine  garlands  at  the  foot  of  a  statue  in  an  Ameri 
can  city,  or  their  remaining  unmolested  if  placed 
there  —  like  Mrs.  Glass'  hare,  it  is  necessary  first  to 
imagine  the  statue. 

We  drove  through  the  Jews'  quarter,  within  which 
that  unhappy  race  was  once  severely  restricted  ;  even 
locked  in  at  eight  in  the  evening ;  saw  the  birth-place 
of  the  Rothschilds  there,  and,  in  quite  another  atmos 
phere,  their  bank  and  house.  The  mansion  of  the 
great  ruler  of  empires  wears  no  unusual  pretension, 
and  the  bank  looks  very  little  like  an  institution  for 
the  control  of  Europe.  I  do  not  believe  that  the 
suburbs  of  Frankfort  are  surpassed  in  any  city  in  the 
world.  The  environs  are  a  succession  of  elegant 
edifices,  surrounded  by  extensive  and  tasteful  gar 
dens,  all  giving  evidence  of  great  wealth  and  high 
cultivation.  Rothschild's  gardens  are  open  to  respect 
able  applicants,  but  the  recent  rain  prevented  our 
taking  advantage  of  the  privilege.  The  city  seems 
quite  surrounded  by  a  park,  or  circle  of  public 
gardens,  and  long  avenues  of  trees  form  a  continuous 
arbor  through  some  of  the  streets.  It  was  a  great 
surprise  to  me  to  find  so  much  that  was  beautiful  at 
Frankfort. 

We  visited  the  Roemer,  where  is  the  Kaiseraal, 
the  place  in  which  the  emperors  were  elected.  Here 
was  a  banquet  hall,  whose  walls  were  covered  with 
fine  pictures  of  all  the  emperors,  each  with  his  Latin 


148  WAYSIDE     SKETCHES. 

motto.  Some  of  these  mottoes  were  very  striking; 
I  should  like  to  know  whether  they  have  been  be 
stowed  in  modern  times  as  characteristic,  or  whether 
the  emperors  were  gifted  with  such  mental  insight  as 
to  select  always  a  sentiment  significant  of  their  char 
acter  and  fortune.  A  banquet  was  held  in  this  room 
during  the  late  royal  congress. 

We  visited  Bethmann's  Museum,  a  private  gallery, 
open  at  certain  hours  to  the  public,  to  see  a  fine  statue 
of  Ariadne,  by  Donneker.  It  is  a  great  work  of  art. 
Afterwards  we  went  to  the  Stadel  Museum,  more  es 
pecially  to  see  Lessing's  splendid  picture  of  Huss'  De 
fence,  which  seemed  to  me  faultless.  It  is  much  more 
of  a  study  than  the  Martyrdom  of  Huss.  The  figure 
of  the  pleader,  and  the  countenances  and  attitude  of 
his  tribunal,  are  in  themselves  a  history ;  and  there  is 
visible  in  the  whole  picture  the  rare  art  of  portraying 
the  expression  of  mixed  motives  and  emotions,  which 
shows  the  artist  to  have  been  a  profound  student  of 
human  nature.  The  coloring  is  in  itself  a  fascination. 
There  were  many  fine  pictures  here,  which  tempted 
us  to  linger  beyond  the  limits  possible  to  our  visit ; 
two  in  particular,  the  Wise  and  Foolish  Virgins,  and 
a  country  scene,  in  which  a  peasant  has  evidently 
been  killed  by  falling  from  a  tree,  and  his  family  and 
neighbors  are  grouped  around  him.  This  is  of  the 
Dusseldorf  school,  and  very  expressive.  Visiting  one 
of  these  continental  picture  galleries  is  like  entering 
an  enchanted  palace ;  a  spell  is  upon  you,  and  it 
needs  some  external  necessity  to  force  you  away. 


WAYSIDE     SKETCHES.  149* 

Sept.  6.  We  came  on  to  Heidelberg  through  a 
hilly,  sometimes  mountainous  wine  country.  The 
hills  are  terraced,  with  a  wonderful  amount  of  labor, 
for  the  roothold  of  the  vine.  A  part  of  the  way 
from  Frankfort,  the  interval  grows  very  wide,  and 
here  re-appears  the  Holland  gardening,  such  as  we 
saw  in  Belgium.  Many  ruins  crown  the  peaks  of 
the  hills.  The  population  seems  not  to  be  spread 
over  the  country,  but  always  gathered  into  villages, 
after  the  fashion  of  the  times  when  it  was  necessary 
to  seek  the  protection  of  walled  towns  at  night. 
Labor  seems  to  be  mainly  performed  by  hand. 
Sometimes  one  sees  a  team,  consisting  of  a  pair  of 
cows,  curiously  fastened  by  their  horns,  and  harnessed 
to  a  plough  or  cart ;  and  occasionally  a  horse  team 
appears. 

Heidelberg  is  nestled  in  one  of  the  most  attractive 
spots  in  this  mountain  region.  The  Neckar,  a  pretty 
but  shallow  stream,  winds  among  the  hills  on  its  way 
to  the  Rhine,  whose  course  we  trace  in  the  distance 
by  the  range  of  mountains  that  skirt  the  western 
horizon.  The  scenery  around  the  town  is  charming, 
but  the  ruins  and  park  of  the  castle  of  Heidelberg, 
throw  all  other  points  of  interest  in  the  shade. 

The  castle  itself,  a  ducal  possession  of  1522,  is  of 
ornate  architecture.  The  fagade  of  the  three  fronts 
still  standing,  exhibits  elaborate  carving,  and  num 
berless  sculptures  still  remain  in  perfection.  It  was 
evidently  an  abode  of  royal  magnificence,  far  exceed 
ing  even  the  grand  ruins  of  England.  It  is  only  a 


150  WAYSIDE     SKETCHES. 

hundred  years  since  it  was  struck  by  lightning  and 
partially  consumed.  A  part  of  the  towers  were 
blown  up  during  an  attack  by  the  French,  I  do  not 
know  at  what  particular  time. 

The  material  of  the  beautiful  building  is  a  soft 
red  sandstone,  permitting  much  elaboration  of  archi 
tecture.  The  broad  terrace  which  still  remains  with 
its  entire  balustrade,  commands  a  lovely  view  of  hill 
and  vale,  river,  plain,  aud  distant  mountains.  The 
ivy  mantles  the  walls  with  a  luxuriance  such  as  we 
have  seen  no  where  else,  and  hangs  in  graceful  fes 
toons  and  long  streamers  of  tender  green  from  every 
shattered  tower,  a.nd  crumbling  parapet. 

But  the  vast  extent  of  the  castle  park  and  gardens 
affords  as  much  interest  as  the  ruins  themselves. 
Broad  avenues,  winding  shady  paths,  turfy  banks, 
tangled  glades,  craggy  descents,  tinkling  fountains, 
still  dark  pools,  smooth  green  lawns,  and  stately 
trees  which  have  withstood  the  storms  of  three  hun 
dred  winters,  are  among  the  elements  which  make 
up  the  beauty  of  this  royal  domain. 

The  old  moat  is  a  perfect  bower.  Tall  trees  have 
grown  up  within  it ;  its  walls  are  hung  with  tapestry 
of  ivy;  mosses  spread  their  carpet  beneath  the 
thicket,  and  long  ferns  wave  their  plumy  foliage 
beside  the  fountains  that  still  well  up  from  hidden 
springs,  and  waste  their  bright  waters  in  these  lonely 
recesses.  I  envy  the  inhabitants  of  Heidelberg,  who 
may  explore  at  will  the  beauties  of  this  magnificent 
estate ;  and  I  think,  were  I  the  princess  of  the  land. 


WAYSIDE     SKETCHES.  151 

I  would  make  the  castle  of  Heidelberg  once  more 
the  envy  of  crowned  heads. 

We  attended  the  English  chapel  here,  and  were 
glad  to  hear  the  familiar  service  in  a  familiar  tongue. 
This  evening,  have  taken  a  walk  along  the  shaded 
avenues  of  public  promenade,  and  looked  at  the 
University.  The  town  looks  very  German,  and 
sounds  more  so,  but  I  could  imagine  a  residence  here 
to  be  a  very  pleasant  condition  of  life. 

Sept.  7.  We  rose  at  half-past  five,  to  ensure  a 
long  day  at  Baden  Baden,  where  we  hoped  to  meet 
a  friend.  Arrived  there  at  half-past  ten,  and  found 
all  the  world  assembled  for  the  great  continental 
races.  We  made  our  way  through  the  broad,  wind 
ing  street  to  the  Conversation  House,  and  break 
fasted  at  the  elegant  restaurant  attached  to  the 
establishment.  The  whole  affair,  besides  being  the 
resort  of  invalids  and  fashionables,  is  the  great 
gaming  house  of  Europe.  The  Conversation  House 
is  another  edition  of  the  Kursaal  in  Wiesbaden.  The 
Drink  Hall  is  a  splendid  building,  into  which  the 
water  is  conducted  from  the  spring  for  the  accommo 
dation  of  visitors.  There  is  a  magnificent  colonnade 
adorned  with  frescoes  along  its  front,  which  is  as 
cended  by  a  broad  flight  of  steps  running  along  its 
entire  length. 

Baden  is  a  charming  nook,  fit  for  the  resort  of 
Dryads  and  Oreads,  embosomed  in  a  tiny  green  val 
ley,  which  is  completely  encircled  by  high  and  pictu 
resque  mountains. 


152  WAYSIDE     SKETCHES. 

The  pretty  stream  of  the  Oos  runs  through  its 
midst,  guarded  by  ivied  walls,  along  which  are  seen 
pretty  lawns  and  flower  gardens.  The  public  prom 
enades  are  beautiful,  and  to-day  were  crowded  with 
people  in  elaborate  costume.  Indeed,  the  place  is 
more  rigid  than  a  court  in  the  exactions  of  fashion. 

The  Grand  Duke  has  his  summer  residence  here, 
in  what  is  called  the  New  Palace,  in  distinction  from 
the  old  castle,  which  is  now  visited  as  noticeable 
ruins.  They  looked  very  high  from  our  position  at 
the  foot  of  the  hills,  and  we  declined  the  ascent,  the 
more  readily  that  we  perceived  donkey  riding  to  be 
the  approved  fashion  of  accomplishing  it.  We  were 
also  rather  disappointed  at  not  finding  it  practicable 
to  ascend  the  Staufenberg,  or  Mount  Mercury,  from 
which  may  be  had  a  fine  view  of  the  valley ;  but  it 
looked  even  higher  than  the  castle,  so  we  concluded 
to  go  to  the  races  instead.  But  upon  making  inquiry 
in  regard  to  a  conveyance  to  the  course,  we  found 
the  price  beyond  the  most  imaginative  conception ; 
and  having  nothing  at  stake,  and  our  York  admira 
tions  not  being  entered,  we  remained  in  the  charming 
little  town,  and  strolled  about  the  paths,  and  watched 
the  display  of  dress  and  equipage.  Of  the  latter 
there  was  every  description,  from  the  splendid  coach 
and  four,  with  two  postillions,  to  a  machine  like  a 
hayrack,  filled  with  chairs;  all  equally  bound  to 
the  races. 

We  made  an  ineffectual  search  for  our  friend ;  it 
was  no  time  to  enquire  for  any  one,  and  the  police, 


WAYSIDE     SKETCHES.  153 

who  could  probably  have  satisfied  us,  were  guarding 
the  public  peace  at  the  course,  and  the  bureau  was 
deserted.  It  was  a  great  disappointment.  We  had 
been  looking  forward  to  this  meeting  with  the  interest 
of  real  friendship,  and  were  completely  baffled.  We 
came  reluctantly  to  the  conclusion  that  our  friend 
had  already  returned  to  his  distant  home  towards  the 
Pacific ;  and  wended  our  way  to  the  station.  On  the 
way  we  encountered  another  party  of  friends  of 
Great  Eastern  memory,  and  left  them  with  regret,  on 
their  way  to  Heidelberg. 

We  came  again  into  the  beautiful  valley  of  the 
Ehine,  and  crossed  the  river  into  La  Belle  France, 
^from  Kehl  to  Strasbourg.  We  have  enjoyed  our 
glimpse  of  Germany,  but  cannot  regret  it,  with  Swit 
zerland  before  us. 

Sept.  8.  We  visited  Strasbourg  Cathedral  this 
morning,  and  ascended  the  spire  as  far  as  the  first 
platform,  half-way  to  the  top,  and  two  hundred  and 
forty-five  feet  from  the  ground.  There  we  found  an 
esplanade  of  considerable  extent,  with  a  dwelling, 
containing  several  rooms,  upon  it;  the  unoccupied 
space  is  surrounded  by  a  high  parapet,  and  has  stone 
seats  and  tables,  for  the  convenience  of  those  who 
sometimes  make  parties  of  pleasure  here.  At  one 
end  of  this  space  is  a  circular  tower,  enclosing  a 
room  of  perhaps  twenty  feet  in  diameter ;  and  just 
outside  this  tower,  rises  the  tall,  slender,  open  spire, 
which  seems  almost  to  vibrate  in  the  strong  breeze. 

A  curious  fancy  it  seems  to  live  in  a  steeple,  but 
11 


154  WAYSIDE     SKETCHES, 

tastes  are  not  to  be  gainsayed ;  and  the  view  of  the 
Khine,  the  city,  and  the  surrounding  country  as  far 
as  the  Yosges  mountains,  is  splendid.  At  this  point 
we  discovered  that  in  order  to  finish  the  ascent  of  the 
spire,  it  was  necessary  to  have  applied  to  the  Mayor 
and  presented  our  passports.  It  was  difficult  to  see 
of  what  possible  interest  it  could  be  to  the  city  dig 
nitaries,  whether  one  should  go  up  two  hundred  and 
forty-five,  or  four  hundred  and  ninety  feet  into  the 
air,  but  a  second  climb  was  not  to  be  thought  of,  and 
we  consoled  ourselves  with  the  reflection  that  the 
difference  in  the  extent  of  view  could  not  be  worth 
the  additional  fatigue.  Nevertheless,  we  Had  con 
ceived  a  fancy  for  making  the  ascent  of  the  highesj 
construction  in  the  world  ;  but  I  have  since  learned 
that  the  open  ranges  of  stairs  against  the  pierced 
spire,  are  considered  dangerous. 

The  Cathedral  is  magnificent;  the  windows  among 
the  most  gorgeous  of  all  specimens  of  stained  glass. 
There  are  some  fine  monuments  in  the  choir,  but 
the  great  curiosity  of  the  church  is  the  famous  clock, 
an  astronomical  construction  showing  the  relative 
position  and  magnitude  of  the  heavenly  bodies, 
the  sun  and  moon,  the  real  and  apparent  time, 
the  ecclesiastical  calendar,  the  zodiac  and  its  signs, 
and  has  upon  its  top,  among  other  devices,  the 
figure  of  Christ,  and  below  it  one  of  Death.  A 
dense  crowd  was  assembled  to  see  it  strike  twelve. 
At  noon  a  tiny  figure  glided  from  a  recess,  and 
struck  the  four  quarters  with  a  little  hammer  upon  a 


WAYSIDE     SKETCHES.  155 

bell.  Then  Death  struck  twelve  with  his  dart  upon  a 
shield ;  the  twelve  apostles  passed  before  the  Saviour, 
with  a  reverence  which  he  acknowledged  b}^  a  ges 
ture  of  benediction  towards  all  except  Judas  ;  and  a 
large  cock,  perched  upon  a  pillar  at  the  side,  flapped 
his  wings,  swelled  his  feathered  throat  and  crowed 
three  times.  At  the  conclusion  of  the  last  crow,  all 
present  must  leave  the  church,  and  the  doors  are 
closed. 

From  Strasbourg  to  Basle  the  country  is  very 
beautiful.  The  broad  Ehine  valley  is  always  pic 
turesque,  fertile  in  vineyards,  and  encircled  by  grand 
hills,  upon  whose  peaks  continually  appear  either 
ruined  castles  or  stately  chateaux,  with  their  villages 
at  their  foot.  The  river  is  wider  here  than  farther 
down  the  valley,  and,  taking  the  whole  length  from 
Basle  to  Cologne,  waters  a  country  of  wonderful 
beauty.  At  Basle  it  is  a  broad,  rapid  stream,  and 
the  city  is  beautifully  situated  on  both  banks,  which 
are  connected  by  a  fine  bridge. 

We  have  taken  a  walk  this  evening  along  the  quiet 
promenade  by  the  river  bank,  and  tried  to  realize 
the  journey  by  which  we  have  come  to  the  heart  of 
the  Ehine  land ;  the  country  of  legend  and  song ;  the 
great  highway  of  Eoman  and  Teuton,  of  Crusader, 
Knight  and  King  ;  the  disputed  possession  of  all  the 
later  agitated  centuries  down  to  the  days  of  the  great 
Napoleon ;  still  wearing  the  footprints  of  the  Eoinan 
tread  and  the  tokens  of  feudal  force ;  still  pouring 
wine  from  her  sunny  hills,  and  harvests  from  her 


156  WAYSIDE     SKETCHES. 

smiling  lap ;  and,  amid  all  the  changes  of  political 
life,  still  guarding  with  quiet  conservatism,  in  her 
quaint  cities  and  her  peculiar  peasant  life,  the  habits 
and  fashions  of  centuries  ago. 


WAYSIDE     SKETCHES.  157 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

SWITZERLAND. 

Basle  —  Lake  of  the  Four  Cantons  —  Rigi  —  Sarnen  —  Brunig  Pass  —  Meiringen 
—  Rosenlaui  —  Brienz  —  Interlachen  —  Lauterbrunnen  —  The  Staubbach  — 
Than  —  Berne — Lake  Leman  —  Geneva 

SEPT.  10.  Yesterday  we  left  Basle  and  the  lovely 
Rhine.  We  took  an  early  walk  across  the  river, 
which  is  here  a  broad  rushing  stream,  spanned  by  a 
fine  stone  bridge,  and  sweeps  in  a  large  crescent 
through  the  town.  We  paused  to  admire  the  con 
sideration  for  rest  and  enjoyment,  which  has  placed 
seats  in  recesses  retiring  from  the  footwalk  of  the 
bridge,  where  one  may  sit  and  enjoy  the  charming 
scene  from  its  best  point  of  view. 

Nothing  gives  such  fine  effect  to  a  city  as  a  broad 
river  in  its  midst.  It  is  the  only  way  to  get  a  proper 
distance  for  its  important  buildings.  The  great  chasm 
of  the  Norloch,  between  the  two  cities  at  Edinburgh, 
performs  the  same  office  there.  You  feel  that  you 
comprehend  a  town  when  you  have  attained  such  a 
point  of  view. 

The  streets  of  Basle  are  narrow,  winding,  steep  and 
densely  built,  and  afford  little  of  attraction  to  the 
stranger's  eye  ;  but  we  found  our  inn  a  very  peaceful 
and  comfortable  caravanserai,  notwithstanding  its 


158  WAYSIDE     SKETCHES. 

ferocious  appellation  of  Black  Bear,  which  looks  still 
more  carnivorous  in  German. 

Nothing  can  be  more  unlike  our  idea  of  a  hotel 
than  such  as  this ;  stone  halls,  stone  staircases,  bare 
floors,  single  beds  with  a  feather  bed  for  a  counter 
pane  ;  and,  withal,  an  artistic  cookery  and  nicety  of 
detail  not  always  to  be  found  in  our  very  pretentious 
establishments.  We  have  been  much  pleased  with 
the  hotels  of  Europe ;  in  all  the  essentials  of  comfort 
they  are  carried  to  a  point  of  great  perfection. 

The  railway  to  Luzern  passes  through  a  most 
charming  country,  fertile  and  cultivated  in  the  plains, 
the  undulating  hills  clad  with  vines,  and  the  distant 
mountains  foreshadowing  the  glory  of  the  coming 
Alps.  The  Yosges  is  no  mean  range  in  itself,  and 
makes  a  distinguished  background  for  the  rich  variety 
of  the  scenery  below. 

We  passed  from  the  Khine  valley  to  the  basin  of 
the  lake  by  long  tunnels,  of  the  same  massive 
masonry  that  we  have  found  to  admire  from  Wales 
to  Switzerland.  Long  before  we  reached  the  lake, 
the  majestic  summit  of  Pilate  towered  up  to  the 
heavens,  and  the  Eigi  lifted  its  stately  Kulm  in  the 
summer  sky.  With  what  language  shall  I  describe 
the  unfolding  of  that  leaf  in  my  memory  upon  which 
is  written  —  The  Alps. 

The  lovely  Lake  of  Lucerne  lies  embosomed 
in  an  irregular  valley,  encircled  by  vast  ranges 
of  mountains,  whose  countless,  sharp,  jagged  peaks 
rise  from  the  very  margin  of  its  blue  waters, 


WAYSIDE     SKETCHES.  159 

and  glitter  in  the  sunlight  far  up  in  the  dome  of 
heaven,  or  veil  themselves  in  clouds. 

Mont  Pilate,  the  tremendous  peak  that  rises  di 
rectly  above  Lucerne,  is  a  mountain  of  most  irregular 
outline,  far  surpassing  any  other  within  range  of  the 
eye,  being  six  thousand  eight  hundred  and  forty-one 
feet  in  utmost  height,  and  the  lower  peaks  scarcely 
less. 

On  leaving  Lucerne,  the  lake  makes  a  long  reach  to 
the  left,  at  the  head  of  which  lie  the  small  towns  of 
Sempach  and  Kusnacht.  Passing  this  seeming  out 
let,  and"  rounding  one  of  the  mighty  columns  of  the 
mountain,  we  reach  Weggis,  a  small  village  at  the 
foot  of  the  Eigi. 

Here  we  landed,  and  took  horse  for  the  top  of  the 
grand  mountain  which  seemed  to  overhang  us,  while 
its  long  ranges  of  bare  precipice  terraced  the  green 
slopes  which  lost  themselves  in  the  upper  distance, 
and  seemed  to  the  inexperienced  eye  to  form  the  de 
sired  summit  We  learned  the  mistake  in  due  time. 

The  path  up  the  mountain  is  a  very  good  one,  and 
might,  for  a  part  of  the  route,  be  scaled  by  wheels. 
The  ascent  wound  through  every  variety  of  way; 
first  by  the  cultivated  fields  under  embowering  trees ; 
then  through  the  mowed  land  and  pasturage ;  some 
times  on  the  verge  of  a  wooded  upland,  sprinkled 
with  wild  flowers,  and  strewn  with  huge  masses  of 
the  conglomerate  rock  of  which  the  mountain  is  built. 
And  every  where  we  turned  to  gaze  upon  some  new 
charm  in  the  bewildering  scene. 


160  WAYSIDE     SKETCHES. 

At  first,  as  we  ascended,  the  beautiful  lake  opened 
to  view,  with  the  great  mountain  promontories  jutting 
into  its  waters,  but  as  we  rose  higher  and  higher,  the 
lake  lost  its  attractiveness  in  the  mighty  vision  that 
began  to  be  unfolded. 

Peak  after  peak  shot  up  behind  the  nearer  summits 
that  shut  in  the  lake,  until  the  vast  distance  was 
peopled  with  the  countless  throng,  some  sombre  with 
their  garb  of  pines,  some  clad  in  eternal  snow.  Then 
the  eye  grew  accustomed  to  the  higher  level,  and 
took  in  a  new  horizon  at  every  step.  I  cannot 
imagine  any  thing  more  grand  than  the  continual 
revelation  of  that  majestic  scene. 

By  the  time  we  had  gained  half  the  ascent,  we 
had  ceased  to  be  charmed  with  the  verdure  of  the 
nearer  hills,  and  the  pretty  habitations  that  nestled 
under  the  shadow  of  the  rocks,  "where  scarce  was 
footing  for  a  goat,"  and  were  wrapt  in  the  solemn 
grandeur  of  the  sea  of  mountains  that  crowded  the 
whole  amphitheatre  of  the  horizon.  It  is  worse  than 
useless  to  attempt  to  describe  it. 

When  we  had  scaled  the  face  of  the  precipice 
which  concealed  the  summit  from  the  foot  of  the 
mountain,  we  found  that  we  had  accomplished  one 
half  the  ascent. 

The  rock  formation  here  is  very  singular,  being- 
conglomerate,  not  too  densely  massed,  and  lying 
heaped  in  huge  fragments  of  fantastic  form.  In  one 
place  the  path  led  through  a  natural  arch,  formed  by 
the  piling  together  of  these  fragments  of  the  moun- 


WAYSIDE     SKETCHES.  161 

tain ;  some  of  them  I  think  not  less  than  a  hundred 
and  fifty  feet  high. 

For  the  last  third  of  the  way,  the  trees  mostly  dis 
appear,  but  the  vegetation  remains  a  green  close  turf 
to  the  very  top,  which  is  over  five  thousand  five 
hundred  feet  high. 

The  latter  part  of  the  way  lies  along  the  verge  of 
the  precipitous  descent  to  Lake  Zug.  Turning  the 
back  upon  the  vast  forest  of  the  Alps,  one  looks 
down  upon  the  exquisite  beauty  of  the  valley;  at 
that  height  it  seems  a  miniature  picture  of  landscape. 
Midway  between  Kusnacht  and  Immensee  is  a  con 
spicuously  white  spot,  which  proves  to  be  the  chapel 
of  William  Tell ;  for  this  is  the  Lake  of  the  Four 
Cantons ;  and  Lucerne,  Uri,  Schwitz,  and  Underwald, 
are  classic  ground  for  the  hero  or  patriot. 

The  way  was  enlivened  by  many  groups  of  trav 
ellers,  riders  and  pedestrians,  both  ascending  and  de 
scending  ;  and  swarmed  with  peasants,  mostly  girls, 
carrying  heavy  burdens  of  supplies  for  the  summit, 
in  baskets  upon  their  backs ;  all  quick  with  the  cour 
teous  greeting  and  smiling  aspect  which  belongs  to 
this  part  of  the  world ;  and,  lest  we  should  forget 
that  "  peculiar  institutions  "  exist  in  some  form  every 
where,  the  unfailing  mendicant  was  stationed  at 
every  resting-place. 

Girls  with  smiling  pertinacity  offered  fruits  and 
drinks,  and  troops  of  return  Corses,  with  guides,  and 
empty  chaises-a-porter,  met  us  at  every  winding  of 
the  path. 


162  WAYSIDE     SKETCHES. 

As  we  climbed  the  last  third  of  the  way,  the  sultry 
jday  was  exchanged  for  a  chill,  cloudy  evening,  and 
the  wind  swept  across  the  narrow  neck  which  we 
were  pursuing,  with  a  wintry  blast.  It  was  evident 
that  the  angry  clouds  would  swallow  up  the  desired 
sunset.  Nevertheless,  it  was  a  glorious  scene.  On 
one  side  the  mighty  Kulm  fell  down  to  Lake  Zug, 
with  such  sharpness  of  descent  that  one  might  almost 
drop  a  pebble  into  its  waters.  Lower  mountains 
masked  the  view  of  Lake  Zurich,  except  for  occa 
sional  glimpses  among  the  hills.  On  the  other  side 
ran  the  long  green  passes  between  the  several  peaks 
of  the  Kigi,  and  lines  of  travellers  dotted  the  threads 
of  path  from  Arth  and  Goldau.  Far  to  the  south, 
lay  a  thousand  peaks,  slowly  veiling  their  lofty  heads 
in  the  mists  of  evening. 

And  here,  at  this  apparently  inaccessible  height, 
are  three  large  hotels.  Sitting  at  a  luxurious  dinner 
in  the  handsome  saloon,  surrounded  by  all  the  appli 
ances  of  advanced  civilization,  piano  and  all,  it  was 
difficult  to  believe  that  nine  long  miles  lay  between 
us  and  the  level  of  every  day  life  ;  and  that  all  the 
luxuries  and  comforts  of  such  an  establishment,  had 
been  brought  to  this  remote  spot  by  the  toilsome 
steps  of  patient  peasants. 

No  nationality  seemed  unrepresented  in  the  assem 
blage  of  the  dining  room ;  and  one  caught  a  very 
good  idea  of  what  Babel  might  have  been. 

We  went  to  bed,  prepared  to  make  an  early  sortie 
to  behold  the  majesty  of  the  rising  sun ;  but  that 


WAYSIDE     SKETCHES.  163 

dignitary  refused  to  be  made,  any  longer,  a  spectacle, 
and  we  beheld,  instead,  the  rain — unwelcome  sight 
—  shutting  out  all  view  of  hill  and  valley,  and 
making  chillier  even  the  chilliness  of  early  morning. 

If  there  were  Babel  over  night,  what  should 
be  styled  the  confusion  of  tongues  at  the  moment 
of  departure ;  landlord,  waiters,  porters,  guides,  trav 
ellers,  all  speaking  in  unknown  tongues,  with  none 
to  interpret ;  each  guest  anathematizing  his  bill 
after  the  peculiar  fashion  of  his  own  country.  We 
had  the  assurance  of  the  guides  that  we  should 
find  better  weather  farther  down ;  so  we  set  forth 
upon  the  toilsome  descent.  Some  courageous  pedes 
trians  followed ;  among  them  two  ladies,  who  arrived 
before  us,  worse  for  mud  and  rain.  Meanwhile,  it 
rained,  at  first  gently,  then  pouringly;  we  halted 
for  a  time  under  the  friendly  shelter  of  a  chapel 
roof — one  of  the  countless  shrines  of  this  land,  but 
it  presented  no  attraction  as  a  permanent  abode, 
and  the  weather  gave  no  token  of  amicable  purpose, 
so  we  emerged  once  more  into  the  deluge,  and 
trooped  downward.  The  path  along  the  direct  face 
of  the  precipice,  which  is  accomplished  by  striking 
it  obliquely,  is  steep  but  good,  and  it  seemed  in 
credible,  on  looking  back  at  the  mighty  barrier,  that 
we  had  scaled  it  without  wings. 

All  things  have  an  end,  and  so  had  the  descent; 
we  arrived  at  Weggis,  little  the  worse  for  wear,  and 
quite  ready  for  breakfast.  About  eleven,  the  clouds 
having  discharged  their  contents  and  departed,  we 


164  WAYSIDE     SKETCHES. 

embarked  for  a  tour  of  the  lake;  and  such  a  tour  I 
do  not  believe  can  be  made  upon  any  other  lake  in 
the  world. 

We  were  borne  along  at  the  foot  of  the  mighty 
ranges,  each  turn  of  the  meandering  lake  revealing 
new  grandeur  in  the  upper  world,  and  new  beauties 
in  the  soft  green  slopes  below. 

Some  of  the  mountains  are  dark  with  pines  to 
the  water's  edge,  while  some  are  dotted  with  chalets, 
and  green  with  pasturage  to  the  very  top.  Several 
villages  skirt  the  lake.  Among  the  largest  are 
Gersau,  Brunnen  and  Fluelen. 

The  first  mentioned  is  an  unusually  pretty  village, 
embowered  in  fruit  trees  and  chestnuts.  It  is  some 
what  remarkable,  even  among  Swiss  villages.  For 
four  hundred  years  this  tiny  corner  of  the  world  ex 
isted  as  an  independent  government,  until  1798,  when 
the  rapacious  hand  of  France,  for  which  nothing  was 
too  great  to  assail,  nothing  too  small  to  grasp, 
swept  it  into  the  vortex  of  the  political  gulf,  and  it  is 
at  present  like  the  rest  of  Switzerland,  under  the 
confederate  government. 

Among  its  other  curious  customs  of  many  years' 
existence,  is  a  beggars'  fete ;  when  for  three  days  in 
the  year  all  the  beggars  from  the  country  round  are 
gathered  to  a  feast  by  the  firesides  of  their  more  for 
tunate  neighbors. 

At  Brunnen,  the  extreme  end  of  Lake  Lucerne, 
upon  a  house  beside  the  water,  are  painted  figures  of 
the  three  patriots,  Werner  Stauffacher,  Arnold  Melc- 


WAYSIDE     SKETCHES.  165 

tal  and  Walter  Furst ;  and  also  two  figures  engaged 
in  mortal  combat,  with  the  inscription,  "Schwitzer 
est  vainqueur  de  Swen  et  fonde  Schwytz." 

From  Brunnen  the  lake  thrusts  out  an  arm  called 
the  Lake  of  Uri,  and  becomes  still  more  remark 
able  for  the  beauty  of  the  waters,  and  the  majesty 
of  the  mountains. 

The  defile  which  encloses  the  lake  is  narrower,  and 
the  peaks  higher.  At  a  great  elevation  to  the  right 
is  Kutli,  where '  stands  a  chapel,  marking  the  spot 
where  the  three  patriots  met,  in  the  solemnity  of  the 
early  morning,  to  swear  the  oaths  of  liberty ;  and 
from  that  spot  are  said  to  have  welled  up  three 
springs,  to  which  pilgrimage  is  still  made  by  the 
believing. 

On  the  water's  edge  at  the  left  of  the  lake,  is  a 
chapel  ornamented  with  various  commemorative  de 
signs,  marking  the  place  where  Tell  sprang  to  the 
shore,  and  sped  the  fatal  arrow  to  the  heart  of  the 
tyrant  Gesler. 

The  waters  of  the  lake  are  here  eight  hundred  feet 
in  depth,  and  wear  the  peculiar  green  which  I  have 
noticed  below  the  Falls  of  Niagara. 

Busy  workmen  are  engaged  in  hewing  a  grand 
road  out  of  the  face  of  the  rock,  hundreds  of  feet 
from  the  water,  and  have  already  constructed  tun 
nels  through  several  projecting  points.  It  will  lead 
by  St.  Gotthard  into  Italy. 

The  end  of  the  navigation  is  Fluelen,  whence  one 
can  look  down  the  lake  still  further  to  the  narrow 


166  WAYSIDE     SKETCHES. 

pass  which  closes  the  view.  It  is  the  present  way  to 
St.  Gotthard  by  Altorf. 

On  the  opposite  side  of  the  lake  the  mountains 
rise  to  the  greatest  height  —  Uri  Eothstock  being 
over  nine  thousand  feet  high,  and  upon  its  distant 
brow  we  could  discern  a  shining  glacier.  The 
whole  sweep  of  the  range  upon  that  side  of  -the 
lake  is  very  high,  and  scarcely  broken  by  a  descent, 
as  is  frequently  the  case  upon  the  other  side.  The 
return  to  Lucerne  by  the  same  route  only  deepened 
the  awe  which  the  Alps  inspired  on  the  first  view. 

Upon  reaching  Lucerne,  we  took  another  boat  for 
Alpnacht,  en  route  to  Meiringen  and  the  glacier  of 
Rosenlaui.  We  came  on  to  Sarnen  for  the  night, 
but  alas !  the  sound  of  the  renewed  rain  augurs  ill 
for  a  mountain  pass,  unless  the  clouds  should  be  ex 
hausted  by  morning. 

Sept.  15.  We  were  wakened  early  by  the  tidings, 
that,  as  the  upper  mountains  were  covered  with 
snow,  there  was  promise  of  a  pleasant  day ;  the  giant 
peaks  serving  as  a  barometer  for  the  commonalty. 
So  we  put  ourselves  in  trim  for  the  day's  travel,  and 
left  Sarnen  by  carriage. 

The  two  pretty  and  intelligent  daughters  of  our 
host,  who  were  also  the  servants  of  the  inn,  were 
among  the  best  specimens  of  native  women  that  we 
have  seen.  They  spoke  French  and  German  equally 
well,  and  English  tolerably,  and  were  as  modest  as 
they  were  intelligent. 

The  dress  of  the  women  in  this  region  is  peculiar. 


WAYSIDE     SKETCHES.  167 

The  mode  of  dressing  the  hair  in  Underwald,  is  by 
braiding  it  with  thick  white  ribbon  or  cotton ;  it  is 
worn  at  full  length,  or  wound  around  the  head  and 
fastened  by  a  pin  nearly  a  foot  long,  with  a  flat  head 
about  two  inches  square,  set  with  glass  or  stones. 
They  wear  what  we  call  Swiss  waists,  with  snowy 
underdress,  and  short  stiffly  starched  white  sleeves, 
with  closely  fitting  black  velvet  sleeves,  reaching  from 
the  elbow  to  the  wrist.  The  back  of  the  waist  is 
finished  with  a  broad  square  collar,  ornamented  at 
the  corners  with  silver ;  and  from  a  hook  in  the  collar 
depends,  upon  each  side,  a  silver  chain  which  fastens 
another  hook  in  the  side  of  the  bodice.  The  head 
is  bare,  or  covered  only  with  a  handkerchief  tied 
xmder  the  chin.  The  broad-brimmed  straw  hat  be 
gan  to  appear  below  Lake  Brienz.  But  this  costume 
is  far  more  picturesque  upon  a  pretty  American  girl 
than  upon  these  sun-tanned,  weather-beaten  women, 
who  bear  heavy  burdens  upon  the  back,  and  dig, 
and  mow,  and  rake  in  the  fields,  and  draw  heavy 
carts,  like  oxen.  We  rarely  see  a  man  in  the  fields ; 
they  are  acting  as  guides,  porters,  drivers  and  waiters ; 
but  it  makes  one  melancholy  to  see  the  complication 
of  labors  laid  upon  womanhood  here.  I  have  not 
seen  a  single  peasant  woman  with  even  the  remains 
of  attractiveness  or  femininity  about  her.  They 
look  harder  and  coarser  than  the  men,  and  their  un 
ceasing  industry  becomes  almost  painful ;  the  babies 
and  the  knitting  are  ever  at  hand  to  fill  up  the  inter 
vals  of  harder  labor. 


168  WAYSIDE     SKETCHES. 

Our  road  to  Meiringen  was  through  the  valley 
of  Sarnen,  and  over  the  Brunig  Pass,  a  grand  gorge 
through  the  mountains.  On  the  right  are  the  lakes 
of  Sarnen  and  Lungern,  and  in  the  distance  the 
Lake  of  Brienz.  A  superb  carriage  road  winds  up  the 
long  pass,  on  one  hand  skirting  closely  the  shaggy 
sides  of  the  mountains,  and  on  the  other,  overhanging 
the  green  meadows  and  scattered  cottages  of  the 
valley.  How  green  such  a  valley  cah  be,  is  known 
only  to  one  who  has  seen  the  Alps.  The  short  thick 
turf  is  perfect  emerald,  and  has  a  look  of  velvet 
smoothness  which  no  carefully  kept  lawn  that  I  ever 
saw  could  attain.  No  fences  break  the  long  swell 
of  the  meadow,  watered  by  clear  rushing  streams 
from  the  mountain  springs. 

The  cottages,  precisely  like  the  fancy  cottages  of 
the  toy  shops,  are  built  of  wood,  fancifully  carved; 
the  roofs  are  of  wood,  crossed  by  long  strips  of 
board,  held  down  by  stones.  There  is  usually  a 
carved  balcony  running  along  the  second  story, 
covered  with  flowers,  ivy,  or  dried  corn,  and  on  the 
Geneva  side  with  grapes.  Altogether  they  have  the 
most  temporary,  unsubstantial  effect,  and  seem  little 
adapted  to  the  long  cold  winters  of  Switzerland. 
Indian  corn  began  to  appear  in  these  valleys.  The 
mountain  formation  is  very  remarkable.  On  the 
upper  side  of  Lake  Lucerne  it  is  a  mass  of  conglom 
erate,  easily  disintegrated,  although  I  have  been  told 
that  at  the  very  summit  of  the  peaks  the  metamor- 
phic  rock  peeps  out. 


WAYSIDE     SKETCHES.  169 

On  Lake  Uri  the  bald  face  of  the  rock  is  gnarled 
and  twisted  into  every  variety  of  gneisitic  contortion, 
intermingled  with  the  later  stratifications ;  and  here, 
in  the  Brunig  Pass,  we  found  the  same  thing,  the 
outcrop  striking  at  every  conceivable  angle,  and  the 
rock  a  fine,  compact,  igneous  stone. 

So  far  as  I  have  observed,  the  same  formation  pre 
vails  throughout  the  range,  with  sometimes  a  mix 
ture  of  slate,  sometimes  of  clayey  strata,  and  very 
seldom  a  slight  appearance  of  quartz ;  on  the  Wetter- 
horn  the  hornblende  is  streaked  with  distinct  veins 
of  smooth  white  quartz. 

As  we  toiled  up  the  long  high  Pass,  we  found 
a  varying  scene  of  wild  grandeur  and  romantic 
beauty.  The  last  hour  of  the  ascent  is  up  the 
Kaiserstuhl,  a  sharp  climb  to  the  south,  overtopped 
by  the  three  great  snowy  peaks  of  the  Wetterhorn, 
which  looked  down  upon  us  from  above  the  clouds. 
As  the  heavy  sky  which  had  overhung  us  all  the 
morning  began  to  break,  we  looked  up,  hoping  to 
catch  once  more  the  clear  blue  of  heaven,  and  where 
we  expected  to  find  it,  loomed  out  great  masses  of 
rock  and  snow,  almost  in  the  very  zenith ;  and  still 
farther  on  appeared  the  Wellhorn.  These  immense 
mountains  are  on  the  left  of  the  valley  of  Meiringen, 
and  are  the  chamois  mountains  of  the  Bernese  Alps. 

After  reaching  the  summit  of  the  Pass,  we  took 
the  mountain  on  our  right,  the  scarped,  rugged  rock 
rising  perpendicularly  above  our  heads,  in  some 
places  a  thousand  feet,  and  gradually  impending  over 

12 


170  WAYSIDE     SKETCHES. 

the  road,  until  at  one  angle  the  huge  mass  had  been 
tunneled,  and  the  road  passed  directly  under  it,  while 
the  enormous  boulder  far  overhung  the  valley  beyond. 

On  the  left,  the  mountain  fell  precipitately  to  the 
valley ;  indeed  the  whole  splendid  road  is  carved 
upon  the  very  face  of  the  mountain  with  incredible 
labor  and  expense.  • 

On  the  opposite  side  of  the  valley,  through  which 
the  milk-white  torrent  of  the  Arve  rushes  foaming 
to  the  Rhine,  rise  the  majestic  heights  of  many 
solemn  peaks,  few  of  whose  names  I  find  it  possible 
to  retain. 

The  Engelhorn  is  directly  opposite,  and  here  and 
there,  at  each  change  of  direction,  appeared  the  sum 
mit  of  a  new  wonder.  Beautiful  cascades  leap  down 
from  the  long  curtain  of  mountain  which  faces  the 
valley;  among  them  is  the  Oltschibach,  and,  finest  of 
all,  the  Eeichenbach. 

The  descent  to  Meiringen  is  sharper  and  shorter 
than  the  ascent  from  Lungern,  and  we  found  our 
selves  about  two  o'clock  at  the  hotel  of  the  Wilder 
Mann,  arranging  ourselves  for  a  trip  to  the  glacier  of 
Rosenlaui. 

It  rained  a  little,  but  we  were  assured  that  the 
road  was  perfectly  good,  "a  little  steep,  perhaps," 
which  was  true  without  the  perhaps.  A  worse 
road  I  never  saw,  not  indeed,  quite  perpendicular, 
piled  compactly  with  large,  closely  massed  trap  rocks, 
set  mostly  on  edge,  with  an  occasional  boulder,  of  a 
height  to  make  even  the  trained  animals  pause  to 


WAYSIDE    SKETCHES.  171 

consider  the  mode  of  ascent,  and  their  riders  to  cogi 
tate  the  probabilities  of  the  return. 

After  gaining,  in  this  way,  a  considerable  elevation, 
the  way  ran  along  the  verge  of  the  gorge  of  the 
Reichenbach,  a  deep  torrent  which  roars  against  vast 
accumulations  of  boulders  and  fragments  that  ob 
struct  its  course.  At  about  half  the  distance  up,  the 
beautiful  fall  of  the  Seilerbach  projects  itself  in  two 
chutes  a  distance  of  a  thousand  feet,  into  the  Reich  - 
enbach.  At  a  short  distance  above  this  fall  we  came 
upon  a  veritable  Alp,  that  is,  a  wide,  green  pasturage, 
high  up  on  the  table  of  the  hills. 

Large  herds  of  the  peculiar  cattle  of  Switzerland 
were  feeding  here,  with  flocks  of  goats,  and  the  un 
failing  chalet  perched  itself  in  the  nooks  of  the 
rocks.  It  is  astonishing  to  see  upon  what  a  height 
these  summer  resorts  are  built.  Scrutinize  what 
mountain  you  will,  and,  at  any  distance  below  per 
petual  snow,  there  will  be  sure  to  peep  out  the  tokens 
of  a  human  dwelling.  In  these  airy  nooks  the  Swiss 
watch  their  herds  and  make  their  cheese,  and  on  the 
approach  of  winter  they  drive  the  milky  mothers 
down  to  the  cottages  of  the  valleys. 

The  cows  are  handsome ;  their  hair  has  the  fine 
ness  of  a  fur ;  they  are  of  a  light  dun  color,  and, 
as  a  distinctive  peculiarity,  their  long  projecting  ears 
are  filled  with  long  white  hairs.  Their  hoofs  are  un 
even  in  length,  and  are  twisted  crosswise  at  the 
division,  from  the  constant  necessity  of  keeping 
footing  upon  a  sharp  acclivity.  They  are  the  riches 


172  WAYSIDE     SKETCHES. 

of  the  Alps,  and  show  the  care  with  which  they  are 
tended.  The  horses,  on  the  contrary,  are  lean,  coarse 
animals,  and  far  from  fleet.  It  was  curious  to  watch 
the  feeding  of  the  horses  on  the  way  to  Brienz.  At 
Tracht  out  came  a  man.  armed  with  a  huge  loaf  of 
bread,  which  he  cut  into  bits  alternately,  for  the 
horses,  whose  avidity  for  the  morsels  showed  their 
appreciation  of  the  civilization  of  cookery. 

To  return  to  Rosenlaui ;  the  rain  deepened  to  a 
pour,  with  an  interlude  of  hail,  from  which  the  dark 
mossy  pines  only  partially  sheltered  us.  Bat  it 
seemed  befitting  the  sombre  cleft  of  the  wild  moun 
tains,  whose  savage  fastnesses  we  were  penetrating, 
and  it  had  nearly  ceased  when  we  crossed  the  Keich- 
enbach  and  dismounted.  Here  were  the  ever  present 
guides,  with  the  very  uninviting  chaise-a-porter.  It 
seems  to  be  the  impression  of  the  natives  that  foreign 
ers  lack  the  ordinary  use  of  their  faculties  while  upon 
a  journey,  and  though  the  object  of  your  trip  may 
lie  within  your  reach,  you  are  supposed  to  need  a 
guide  for  "  explications,"  and  the  intensity  of  your 
enjoyment  of  Nature  is  often  sorely  marred  by  the 
irritation.  At  the  present  time  we  declined  the  privi 
lege  of  being  borne  upon  the  shoulders  of  officious 
attendants,  and  climbed  the  stony  paths,  which  were 
now  only  the  bed  of  trickling  streams.  One  perti 
nacious  guide  followed,  awaiting  some  opportune 
disaster  which  should  render  his  presence  desirable. 

As  we  crossed  the  deep  chasm  of  the  Weissbach,  a 
boy  stood  with  heavy  stones  poised  upon  the  slender 


WAYSIDE     SKETCHES.  173 

rail  of  the  bridge,  ready  to  launch  them  into  the 
abyss  at  our  approach.  The  silence  which  awaited 
the  sullen  thud  of  their  arrival  at  the  bottom,  showed 
an  immensity  of  depth,  and  the  eye  sought  in  vain 
any  glance  of  water  in  the  darkness  below. 

We  scrambled  on  up  the  wet,  slippery  paths, 
stumbling  among  the  gnarled  roots  of  projecting  trees, 
to  a  second  gorge  of  the  same  stream,  crossed  by  a 
frail  little  bridge,  suspended  between  the  smooth  per 
pendicular  sides  of  a  very  suggestive  chasm.  The 
approach  to  it  was  by  a  short  ladder,  and  up  the 
narrow  ascent  on  the  other  side  in  the  same  way. 
The  plank  was  narrow,  covered  with  sleet,  and  de 
fended  by  a  single  rail.  However,  it  was  the  only  ap 
proach  to  actual  insecurity  that  I  have  found  in 
Switzerland,  where  I  had  dreaded  so  much.  We 
crossed  in  safety,  notwithstanding,  and  before  us 
hung  the  glacier,  white  as  a  drift  of  newly  fallen 
snow.  Its  upper  part  was  shrouded  in  clouds,  so  that 
we  could  get  no  proper  idea  of  its  height,  which  is 
twelve  hundred  feet.  We  ascended  by  steps  cut  in 
the  ice  to  a  crevasse,  which  has  been  artificially  en 
larged  into  a  passage  about  thirty  yards  long.  Its 
extremity  is  hollowed  into  a  circular  chamber, 
whence  one  can  watch  the  effect  of  the  light  upon 
the  crystal  mass.  It  becomes  a  deep  blue  wherever 
the  light  penetrates  the  cracks,  and  the  entire  arch  of 
the  cavern  was  of  the  color  of  a  twilight  sky.  This 
glacier  is  remarkable  among  its  fellows  for  its  unvary 
ing  purity,  the  flinty  formation  of  the  adjacent 


174  WAYSIDE     SKETCHES. 

mountains  sending  down  no  discolored  debris.  We 
emerged  with  a  shiver,  to  be  greeted  by  a  considerable 
fall  of  snow,  and  having  refreshed  ourselves  at  the 
little  cabin  near  the  glacier,  we  commenced  the  re 
turn.  That  we  were  hopelessly  wet  spared  us  the 
trouble  of  any  attempt  to  care  for  our  garments,  rind 
we  launched  ourselves  down  the  steep  at  full  speed. 
That  wet  could  become  wetter  I  learned  by  measuring 
my  length  in  one  of  the  temporary  brooks.  After 
crossing  the-  Wiessbach,  I  turned  aside  to  explore  the 
banks  of  the  profound  depth,  but  was  warned  to  re 
treat  by  the  ice  which  encased  every  blade  of  grass. 
How  the  dwellers  upon  these  dangerous  heights  escape 
disaster  and  destruction  I  cannot  well  comprehend, 
yet  little  children  play  upon  the  verge  of  the  preci 
pices  and  torrents,  apparently  without  any  especial 
protection.  The  chalets  often  rest  upon  slopes, 
where  it  would  seem  that  an  unguarded  step  must 
prove  the  step  between  us  and  death. 

The  shadows  of  the  mountains  were  grown  very 
sombre,  and  the  two  grand  peaks  of  the  Engelhorn 
and  the  Wellhorn,  between  which  lies  the  glacier, 
frowned  heavily  upon  the  way,  while  the  Wetterhorn 
and  the  Faulhorn  kept  guard  upon  their  sides: 
Nevertheless  the  shadowy  ride  down  that  long  ro 
mantic  pass  beside  the  foaming  torrent,  sprinkjed  by 
the  spray  of  the  silver  cascade,  and  shut  in  by  those 
tremendous  mountains,  was  delightful,  even  though 
the  streams  from  our  garments  dripped  from  the 
stirrups. 


WAYSIDE     SKETCHES.  175 

By  the  time  we  had  reached  the  steep  rocky  de 
scent  it  was  nearly  dark,  and  the  path,  bad  enough 
by  daylight,  was  not  to  be  thought  of  on  horseback, 
so  We  dismounted,  and  the  horses  went  on,  sliding 
and  jumping  down  the  way,  as  we  trudged  carefully 
downward,  sometimes  varying  the  craggy  path  by  an 
excursion  to  the  mud  of  the  adjoining  meadow.  We 
had  a  mile  or  two  of  riding  after  reaching  the  foot, 
and  were  glad  to  find  dinner  and  fire  awaiting  our 
arrival,  with  which,  being  refreshed,  we  spent  the 
evening  in  pleasant  chat  in  the  travellers'  room,  ex 
amined  the  treasures  of  wood  carvings,  and  went  to 
sleep  to  the  roar  of  the  Reichenbach. 

The  following  morning  was  beautiful,  and  we  came 
on  by  carriage  through  Brienz  to  Interlachen.  As 
we  left  Meiringen,  the  great  glacier  overtopped  the 
mountain,  glistening  in  immaculate  whiteness  in  the 
morning  sun. 

The  road  along  the  lake  was  charming,  with 
meadows  even  greener  than  any  we  have  yet  seen, 
and  the  fall  of  the  Giessbach  here  shot  into  the  lake 
with  a  distant  roar,  which  seemed  unaccounted  for 
by  the  size  of  the  fall.  We  left  the  carriage  at 
Tracht,  and  walked  on  beside  the  sweet  lake,  to  linger 
upon  the  fair  picture  of  creation  spread  before  us. 

The  rugged  mountain  curtain,  studded  with  peaks, 
still  guarded  the  valley,  but  receded  to  a  little  wider 
interval  from  the  turbid  Aar,  leaving  a  smiling  valley, 
sloping  to  the  southern  sun,  and  rich  in  all  the  charms 
of  Alpine  beauty. 


176  WAYSIDE    SKETCHES. 

At  Interlachen  the  great  monarch  of  the  Bernese 
hills,  the  Jung  Frau,  rose  white  with  eternal  snow, 
and  the  Silberhorn  spread  a  snowy  shroud  upon 
its  upturned  face,  like  the  still  covering  of  some 
gigantic  dead. 

The  immense  height  of  this  range  renders  its  dis 
tance  inappreciable,  and  it  seems  within  a  pistol  shot 
while  at  a  direct  distance  of  eighteen  miles.  I  longed 
to  put  away  the  curtain  of  the  dark,  pine-covered 
mountains  in  front,  and  look  upon  the  King  in  his 
majesty. 

The  village  of  Interlachen  is  one  of  those  spots,  rare 
as  they  are  charming,  in  which  exquisite  beauty  is 
combined  with  grandeur  and  solemnity,  and  it  is  the 
one  centre  from  which  radiate  the  most  desirable 
Swiss  excursions. 

We  drove  to  Lauterbrunnen  to  see  the  Staubbach 
fall,  and  to  get  nearer  to  the  Jung  Frau,  as  we  could 
not  go  to  Grindelwald.  The  mountain  seemed  still 
farther  off  than  at  Interlachen.  The  Staubbach  is 
pretty,  hanging  like  a  misty  veil  from  the  crest  of 
the  mountain ;  the  water,  falling  from  such  an  im 
mense  height,  becomes  dissipated  into  vapor,  and 
seems  scarcely  to  possess  a  substance ;  but  the  very 
respectable  brook  which  it  forms,  proves  it  to  be  a 
real  stream. 

One  of  the  most  noticeable  features  of  the  trip  to 
the  Staubbach  was  the  ingenuity  with  which  the 
demand  was  continually  made  upon  the  purse.  One 
went  at  each  step  prepared  to  spring  a  mine.  No 


WAYSIDE     SKETCHES.  177 

face  of  cabin  was  so  innocent  that  it  did  not  fly  open 
at  our  approach,  and  disclose  the  peculiar  wares  of 
the  country ;  ingenious  carvings  in  wood,  bone  and 
ivory,  tempting  displays,  both  for  beauty  and  utility. 
Then  there  were  prints  of  the  surrounding  views ; 
children  followed  us  with  a  bench  for  our  repose,  or 
croaked  a  jodel  for  our  edification,  while  others,  with 
out  pretext,  demanded  tribute.  It  was  ludicrous  to 
see  the  anxious  speed  with  which  every  individual 
within  the  range  of  vision  hurried  to  make  merchan 
dise  of  the  unwary  traveller.  As  we  approached  the 
corner  of  the  lane  leading  to  the  fall,  a  boy  hastened 
to  place  the  long  Alpine  horn  by  the  wayside,  and 
brought  echoes  from  the  hills  which  might  have 
seemed  the  voices  of  the  wood-nymphs,  reverbera 
ting  in  musical  notes,  again  and  again,  from  the 
narrow  strait 

We  had  twelve  applications  during  the  ten  minutes' 
walk  between  Lauterbrunnen  and  the  Staubbach, 
and  at  the  stopping  place  there  were  nine  guides,  all 
desirous  of  pointing  out  the  fall,  which  was  mean 
while  directly  before  our  eyes. 

We  spent  the  Sunday  at  Interlachen,  and  each 
hour  added  to  our  admiration  of  the  spot  I  could 
fancy  no  more  delightful  place  for  a  summer  abode. 
One  may  make  the  wildest  excursions  into  the  heart 
of  the  Bernese  Oberland,  and  return  to  enjoy  the 
sweetness  of  plain,  stream,  and  valleys,  and  all  the 
appliances  of  luxury  and  repose. 

We  followed  the  crooked,  winding  street  through 


178  WAYSIDE     SKETCHES. 

the  village  to  the  bridge  across  the  Aar,  whence  there 
is  a  comprehensive  view  of  all  that  is  grand  and 
beautiful  in  scenery ;  from  the  snowy  summit  of  the 
majestic  Jung  Frau  and  the  darker  mountains  of  the 
nearer  range,  to  the  sweeping  river,  with  its  verdant 
banks  and  picturesque  mills,  and  the  pretty  dwellings 
dotting  the  valley. 

The  drive  to  Thun  is  only  another  edition  of  these 
sweet  valleys ;  and  the  sail  down  the  lake  was  very 
delightful.  Conspicuous  above  the  other  mountains 
of  the  region,  the  gigantic  pyramid  of  the  Niesen 
overhangs  the  lake;  the  banks  are  cultivated,  and 
tasteful  dwellings  appear  frequently. 

Thun  itself  is  very  beautiful.  The  steamer  passes 
a  narrow  entrance  between  an  elegant  villa  on  the 
left,  and  on  the  right,  a  hill  slope,  covered  with 
fine  buildings,  and  crowned  by  a  chateau  and  a 
handsome  chapel.  The  narrow  inlet  is,  I  believe,  still 
the  Aar,  and  the  steamer  enters  beyond  the  power  of 
turning.  Here  we  landed  from  the  crowded  little  boat ; 
not  even  the  Rigi  afforded  a  more  complex  nationality 
than  the  deck  of  that  little  steamer.  English,  Amer 
ican,  French  and  German  tourists,  peasants  and  Swiss 
soldiery  all  hurried  off  to  the  station ;  among  them 
our  unlucky  selves,  supposing  the  aforesaid  place  of 
departure  to  be  in  immediate  proximity  to  the  pier, 
when  it  proved  to  be  a  mile  away. 

We  came  by  rail  to  Berne,  where  we-  spent  the 
night,  but  did  not  remain  to  explore  the  city  of 
Bears. 


WAYSIDE     SKETCHES.  179 

From  Berne  again  by  rail,  through  an  increasingly 
picturesque  country,  to  the  beautiful  town  of  Lau 
sanne,  where  we  embarked  for  Geneva.  I  can  do  no 
justice  to  a  sail  down  Lake  Leman,  its  blue  waters 
guarded  by  the  Alps  on  the  south,  and  the  long 
chain  of  the  Jura  on  the  north.  A  fertile,  highly 
cultivated  country  alternates  with  handsome  towns 
and  stately  chateaux  upon  its  banks.  Coppet,  the 
residence  of  Madame  de  Stael,  is  on  the  northern 
bank ;  also  the  chateau  of  Prangins,  once  the  posses 
sion  of  Joseph  Buonaparte,  now  of  the  Prince 
Napoleon. 

Just  before  we  reached  Geneva,  a  distant,  snow 
capped  chain  of  peaks  began  to  dawn  upon  the  eye 
—  and  there  was  Mont  Blanc. 

At  a  distance  of  more  than  fifty  miles,  it  seemed 
little  farther  off  than  did  the  Jung  Frau  at  Inter- 
lachen.  Nothing  else  could  engross  the  sight  after 
wards;  the  eye  was  ever  seeking  that  mighty  domain 
of  ice  and  silence. 

The  view  of  Mont  Blanc  from  Geneva  is  very  good. 
Here  the  Rhone,  which  enters  the  lake  below  Ville- 
»neuve,  rushes  out  again  in  a  deep  blue  rapid  stream, 
very  different  from  the  green  depth  of  the  Rhine. 

I  think  Geneva  must  prove  a  charming  residence, 
uniting  the  climate  of  the  mountain  country  to  the 
pleasures  of  cultivation,  and  directness  of  access  to 
the  great  world  every  where. 

We  drove  out  to  Ferney,  the  residence  of  Voltaire. 
It  is  a  most  favorable  exhibition  of  French  garden- 


180  WAYSIDE     SKETCHES. 

ing,  and  one  cannot  but  wish  that  he  had  confined 
his  genius  to  horticulture,  and  had  not  touched  the 
profound  depths  of  the  spiritual  life  with  an  unhal 
lowed  hand.  We  were  shown  his  bedroom  and 
saloon,  in  the  same  state  as  when  he  occupied  them. 
In  a  stone  urn  in  the  saloon  is  preserved  his  heart, 
according  to  his  own  direction. 

A  fine  full  length  portrait  of  Catharine  of  Eussia, 
a  present  from  the  Empress  herself,  hangs  over  his 
bed.  The  garden  is  still  preserved  in  his  own  design. 
An  arbor,  several  hundred  feet  in  length,  beautifully 
trained  in  beech,  and  a  tall  hedge  enclosing  the 
grounds  trimmed  in  the  same  arbor-esque  fashion, 
are  kept  as  they  were  in  the  days  of  the  noted  owner. 

The  environs  of  Geneva  are  pretty,  but  seem  tame 
after  the  grandeur  of  the  past  week,  but  we  are  look 
ing  forward  to  Chamouni  and  Mont  Blanc. 


WAYSIDE     SKETCHES.  181 


CHAPTER   IX. 


SWITZERLAND. 


Chamouni  —  La  Fl<§gere  — -  Sources  of  the  Arveiron  —  T3te  Noire  —  Martigny 
—  Pierre  a  voir  — Brieg  — Simplon  — Domo  d'Ossola— Lake  Maggiore  — 
Arona. 


THERE  is  little  to  say  of  the  way  from  Geneva  to 
Chamouni,  although  it  is  a  most  interesting  route  to 
remember.  We  made  the  journey  by  diligence,  the 
day  hot,  and  the  way  dusty.  The  road  leads  from 
Geneva,  at  first  up  a  steep  ascent,  through  a  well 
cultivated  country,  and  fields  blushing  with  the  col- 
chicum;  then  it  becomes  gradually  wilder  and 
steeper;  winding  up  sharp  passages  above  deep 
gorges,  through  which  flows  the  white  torrent  of  the 
Arve.  One  soon  learns  to  distinguish  the  glacier 
rivers  by  this  peculiar  whiteness,  owing,  perhaps,  to 
the  impalpable  dust  of  the  rocks,  ground  to  powder 
in  the  attrition  of  the  glacier.  In  eating  the  clear 
glacier  ice,  I  sometimes  found  the  sand  remaining 
abundantly  in  the  mouth. 

One  never  ceases  to  wonder,  upon  this  route,  at 
the  thought  of  the  mighty  convulsions  whose  traces 
are  scattered  so  thickly  along  the  course,  in  the  huge 
fragments  of  every  form  which  have  been  detached 


182  WAYSIDE     SKETCHES. 

from  the  impending  mountains.  The  whole  valley 
below  is  evidently  at  times  overflowed  by  the  stream, 
for  all  along  its  now  confined  bed  lie  vast  accumula 
tions  such  as  are  heaped  up  only  by  the  progress  of 
mountain  torrents.  The  scene  in  the  spring  when 
the  icy  fetters  of  the  waters  are  first  loosened,  must 
be  worth  seeing. 

Just  before  reaching  the  village  of  Sallenches,  we 
exchanged  the  heavy  but  comfortable  diligence  for 
light  carriages,  as  the  journey  is  too  difficult  to  be 
performed  farther  by  large  vehicles ;  and  even  these 
carriages  we  were  forced  to  abandon  at  some  of  the 
precipitous  ascents. 

A  bridge  over  the  Arve,  built  upon  a  double  set 
of  arches,  is  one  of  the  finest  specimens  of  masonry 
I  ever  saw. 

The  same  features  of  scenery  continue ;  the  vast 
mountains  grow  higher,  their  rocky  faces  more  pre 
cipitous  ;  the  gorges  narrower ;  the  hum  of  conver 
sation  grows  hushed,  and  the  awe  of  the  savage 
solitude  gathers  over  us  beneath  the  darkening  sky ; 
the  stream  roars  more  madly  over  its  obstructions, 
and  finally,  in  the  vista  of  the  narrow  defile,  rises  the 
pure  white  summit  of  the  "  sole  sovereign  of  the 
vale."  Mont  Blanc,  like  Niagara,  needs  time  to 
allow  one's  mind  to  grow  up  to  the  recognition  of 
his  mighty  proportions.  I  think  these  are  more  truly 
appreciated  at  the  distance  of  Lake  Leman  than  on 
a  nearer  approach.  But  his  height  is  best  appre 
hended  by  being  viewed  from  some  great,  though 


WAYSIDE     SKETCHES.  183 

inferior  elevation  in  his  neighborhood.  In  truth,  the 
first  view  of  the  great  mountain  from  his  foot  is  dis 
appointing,  especially  after  having  been  imbued  with 
the  poetic  descriptions,  which  lead  one  to  seek  its 
summit  almost  in  the  heavens.  The  air  is  so  clear, 
and  the  mountain  so  enormous  in  its  proportions, 
that  it  seems  neither  so  very  high,  nor  at  any  very 
impracticable  distance. 

Then  one's  own  stand-point  in  the  Valley  of  Cha- 
mouni  is  six  or  seven  times  higher  than  the  Palisades 
on  the  Hudson,  and  the  mind  fails  to  add  the  height 
of  an  entire  day's  journey  upwards  to  the  remainder 
of  the  mighty  mass. 

Sept.  18.  We  spent  the  night  at  a  hotel  in  full 
view  of  the  mountain,  and  it  seemed  higher  in  the 
morning.  There  are  many  excursions  to  be  made 
in  the  neighborhood;  the  usual  one,  unless  the  stay 
be  protracted,  is  to  the  Mer  de  Glace,  by  way  of  the 
Montanvert,  across  the  glacier,  and  a  return  by  the 
Mauvais  Pas  and  the  Chapeau.  There  were  two 
objections  to  this  excursion  in  my  mind.  Upon  the 
Mer  de  Glace  there  is  no  view  of  Mont  Blanc  itself, 
and  the  return  is  by  a  difficult  and  fatiguing  walk 
along  a  path  which  must  be  rugged  and  dangerous 
indeed,  to  deserve,  in  these  regions,  the  name  of 
Mauvais  Pas. 

So  by  way  of  combining  a  coup  d'  oeil  of  the 
mountain  with  a  visit  to  the  great  glacier,  I  chose 
the  ascent  of  La  Flegere,  and  a  return  by  the  sources 
of  the  Arveiron.  La  Flegere  is  upon  the  opposite 


184  WAYSIDE     SKETCHES. 

side  of  the  valley  from  Mont  Blanc,  five  thousand 
eight  hundred  feet  high,  and  intensely  steep.  The 
narrow  path  is  forced  to  double  continually  upon 
itself,  making  at  each  detour  a  small  angle  by  which 
the  mountain  is  finally  scaled. 

For  the  first  hour  we  oscillated  upon  the  face  of  a 
bare  hill,  apparently  not  more  than  half  a  mile  in 
length,  mounting,  by  slow  gradations  of  the  flinty 
path,  at  .right  angles  to  the  general  direction  of  the 
mountain.  We  then  made  a  sudden  turn  to  the  right 
and  plunged  into  a  wood,  which  shut  out  the  sur 
rounding  views,  while  it  afforded  a  grateful  shelter 
from  the  hot  morning  sun.  There  was  still  the  same 
slow  alternation  of  advance  and  retrograde ;  the  path 
from  being  only  stony,  became  rocky  and  difficult. 
At  one  point  it  crossed  a  pretty  mountain  stream, 
where  there  is  a  rustic  bench  for  the  rest  of  the  wea 
ried  wayfarer. 

About  half  the  way  up  is  a  pavilion  perched  upon 
a  projecting  knoll  on  the  side  of  the  mountain,  where 
the  views  of  the  valley  begin  to  assume  appreciable 
proportions.  I  think  the  height  of  a  mountain  is 
best  comprehended  at  such  a  stopping  place.  You 
take  in  the  distance  already  attained,  and  that  still 
before  you,  at  the  same  glance ;  while  at  the  foot  or 
the  summit,  the  great  distance  obliterates  the  detail 
by  which  you  measure.  The  path  attains  a  still 
more  direct  steepness  after  leaving  the  pavilion,  and 
clambers  among  the  rocks  and  bared  roots  with  an 
irregularity  and  difficulty  which  demands  continual 


WAYSIDE    SKETCHES.  185 

attention  to  the  proprieties  of  horsemanship,  and 
made  even  the  mules  give  signs  of  a  determination 
to  retreat.  We  had  a  model  of  a  guide;  careful, 
attentive,  genial  and  polite.  Henri  altogether  sur 
passed  any  attendant  that  we  have  ever  had,  and 
seemed,  besides,  altogether  innocent  of  the  rapacity 
of  his  class ;  receiving  gratuity  or  refreshment  with 
a  well-bred  modesty  rare  to  behold  in  these  regions. 

The  view,  when  the  top  of  La  Fleglre  is  once  at 
tained,  is  worth  any  fatigue.  The  vast  body  of  Mont 
Blanc  is  spread  out  like  a  picture,  with  the  long 
parallel  ranges  of  mountains  that  form  its  sides  filled 
with  enormous  glaciers,  from  which  flow  the  various 
tributaries  which  finally  pour  their  waters  through 
the  Arve  to  the  Rhone. 

The  great  Needles  point  skyward  as  if  they  would 
pierce  the  heavens.  Above  all,  farther  off,  and  higher 
than  when  seen  at  its  foot,  rises  the  serene,  immacu 
late  front  of  the  "  great  Hierarch,"  pure  as  if  newly 
dropped  from  the  skies,  and  seeming  to  bid  defiance 
to  all  stain  of  human  approach,  as  indeed  he  does  — 
for  although  the  rashness  of  adventurous  spirit  some 
times  plants  a  footstep  in  these  sublime  solitudes,  the 
lone  monarch  hastens  to  obliterate  its  traces  with  his 
icy  breath,  and  suffers  no  human  power  to  fix  land 
mark  or  pathway  in  his  solemn  abode. 

The  height  of  La  Flegere  reveals  an  immense  ex 
panse,  entirely  hidden  from  the  village  by  the  inter 
vening  peak,  which  seems  to  be  filled  with  pure  crys 
tal  ice;  the  blaze  of  the  sun  showed  its  transparency 

13 


186  WAYSIDE    SKETCHES. 

even  at  that  distance.  This  is  what  is  called  the 
Grand  Plateau ;  it  had  something  appalling  to  me,  so 
calm  and  cold  in  its  defiance  of  human  skill  and  re 
search.  In  full  view  from  our  point  of  vision  were 
the  glaciers  of  des  Bossons,  d'Argentiere,  du  Tour, 
and  the  mighty  Mer  de  Glace,  which  at  its  lower  ex 
tremity  takes  the  name  of  du  Bois. 

The  Mer  de  Glace  presents  a  slope  of  several  miles, 
filled  wit^i  tall  pyramids  and  blue  crevasses,  then 
grows  apparently  smoother  up  to  the  point  of  diver 
gence  between  the  branch  which  turns  to  the  right, 
toward  the  Col  de  Geant  and  that  which  leads  to  the 
Jardin.  The  latter  is  a  spot  of  green  turf,  surrounded 
by  eternal  snow,  at  a  distance  from  the  valley  of  nearly 
nine  hours.  The  guides  assert  the  length  of  this 
glacier  to  be,  in  all,  eighteen  leagues,  but  eighteen 
miles  seem  more  credible. 

We  were  unfortunate  in  not  being  aware  of  an 
ascent  of  Mont  Blanc  while  we  were  at  La  Flegere, 
as  from  its  summit  the  party  may  be  watched  with 
glasses.  Just  as  we  reached  the  valley  on  our  return, 
a  cannon  announced  the  arrival  at  the  Grand  Mulcts, 
the  cabin  where  the  first  night  is  passed  by  the  as 
piring  traveller.  The  next  morning  the  terrible  jour 
ney  is  made  over  the  icy  way  to  the  summit,  and  the 
descent  accomplished  to  the  same  point,  where  the 
second  night  is  usually  passed,  although  some  ener 
getic  travellers  return  to  Chamouni  the  second  day. 

The  danger  of  concealed  crevasses,  the  intense 
cold,  the  toilsome  way,  the  painful  respiration,  and 


WAYSIDE    SKETCHES.  187 

the  oppressive  sense  of  hunger,  all  combine  to  render 
this  one  of  the  most  dreadful  excursions  ever  under 
taken,  under  the  pretext  either  of  pleasure  or  advan 
tage.  And  when  to  this  is  added  the  fact  that  the 
view,  under  the  most  favorable  circumstances,  is 
limited  to  the  sight  of  the  most  elevated  mountains, 
and  that  the  length  of  stay  at  the  summit  can  be 
prolonged  to  little  over  a  quarter  of  an  hour,  it  would 
seem  that  "the  game  would  not  pay  for  the*  candle." 
Two  guides,  at  least,  are  necessary  to  the  ascent,  (the 
first  attempt  was  made  with  seventeen,)  and  porters 
are  needed  to  carry  food,  fuel,  wine,  and  garments  for 
the  night ;  the  cost  is  not  less  than  a  hundred  dollars 
for  the  guides  alone,  and  varies  for  the  entire  trip 
from  three  to  five  hundred. 

Meanwhile  we  are  resting  at  the  top  of  La  Flegere. 
The  descent  of  a  steep  mountain,  upon  horseback, 
with  a  side-saddle,  is  extremely  fatiguing,  and  having 
found  a  mule  a  very  different  affair  from  a  horse,  I 
inferred  the  propriety  of  making  a  part,  at  least,  of 
the  downward  journey  on  foot ;  so  leaving  guide, 
mule  and  companion  behind,  I  set  forth. 

The  footpath  may  be  made  a  little  shorter  than  the 
bridle  road,  but  the  great  steepness  renders  it  imprac 
ticable  to  diverge  much  from  the  beaten  track ;  a 
slight  misstep  in  traversing  the  short  cuts  between 
the  zigzags  generally  sufficing  to  bring  down  upon  one 
an  avalanche  of  rocks*  which  have  a  precarious  hold 
upon  the  side  of  the  mountain,  and  crinoline  is  emi 
nently  adapted  to  secure  all  the  chances  of  such  mis- 


188  WAYSIDE    SKETCHES. 

haps.  Then,  too,  a  very  promising  divergence  is  not 
unlikely  to  end  in  a  thoroughly  impracticable  preci 
pice,  and  the  steep  way  is  to  be  retraced. 

The  exhilaration  of  that  free  mountain  air  renders 
walking  a  perfect  pleasure,  and  I  had  no  mind  to  ex 
change  it  for  the  mule,  so  kept  on  to  the  valley,  stop 
ping  to  chat  by  the  way  with  the  sprightly  mistress 
of  the  pavilion,  whom  I  encountered  at  the  pretty 
resting  place  where  the  stream  overflowed  the  road. 
I  rested  at  the  bottom,  and  watched  the  caravan  of 
mules  and  footmen  trailing  its  slow  length  along  the 
tortuous  descent ;  then  remounting,  we  took  our  way 
across  the  valley  to  the  foot  of  the  great  glacier.     A 
ride  of  about  an  hour  brought  us  to  perhaps  the  most 
beautiful  sight  of  the  whole  region.     The  Arveiron 
gushes  in  a  foaming  torrent  from  a  vast  arch  in  the 
clear  solid  ice,  brawling  over  the  great  rocks  dropped 
from  it,  in  its  slow  but  steady  onward  march.     It  is 
an  enjoyment  of  which  I  should  be  never  weary,  to 
watch  the  outpouring  of  that  tide  from  the  heart  of 
that  frozen  sea ;  ever  and  anon  whirling  down  a  huge 
fragment  of  ice,  or  booming  with  the  plunge  of  some 
loosened  boulder  from  the  arch  above ;  then  rushing 
away  down  the  valley  with  the  joy  of  sunlight  upon 
its  bosom,  to  mingle  its  white  waters  with  the  whiter 
Arve. 

There  is  something  appalling  in  the  desolation  of 
the  moraine  at  the  foot  of  the'glacier.  The  plain  is 
encumbered  for  many  rods  with  enormous  masses  of 
rocks,  immense  boulders,  and  vast  heaps  of  sand, 


WAYSIDE    SKETCHES.  189 

ground  to  powder  by  the  fearful  attrition  ;  while  far 
up  lie  the  same  huge  debris,  brought  by  the  great 
silent  river  from  the  rocky  fastnesses  above.  A  forest 
of  pyramids  clusters  in  the  distance,  and  occasionally 
a  tall  needle  topples  over  in  sudden  but  noiseless 
prostration. 

The  glacier  has  retired  many  rods  within  the 
memory  of  living  inhabitants,  furnishing  an  illustra 
tion  of  the  theory  that  glaciers  are  steadily  retreating, 
leaving  their  terminal  moraines  as  foundations  for 
the  inhabitation  which  is  gradually  pursuing  them  to 
their  citadel  in  the  savage  heart  of  the  mountains. 

We  scrambled  across  the  lateral  barrier,  and  made 
our  way  with  difficulty  along  a  rough  surface  very 
little  like  ice,  except  where  we  paused  to  brush  away 
the  sand,  or  to  dislodge  a  stone  from  its  bed  to  assure 
ourselves  of  the  presence  of  the  crystal  beneath.  It 
was  very  toilsome,  and  the  tall  pyramids  were  a  long 
way  off,  and  I  satisfied  my  curiosity  with  gazing  upon 
them  at  a  distance,  while  my  companion,  a  young 
English  lady,  went  on  with  the  careful  guide,  and 
looked  into  the  dark  blue  crevasses,  and  explored  the 
glacier  to  her  satisfaction. 

I  sat,  meanwhile,  wrapt  in  the  hurrying  river,  the 
shadowy  cleft  of  the  lower  valley,  and  the  spotless 
peaks  whose  afternoon  splendor  was  yielding  to  the 
soft  glow  of  sunset. 

We  entered  a  grotto  in  the  foot  of  the  glacier, 
which  differed  from  that  at  Kosenlaui  in  its  utter 
darkness,  due,  I  suppose,  to  the  accumulations  of 


190  WAYSIDE     SKETCHES. 

sand  above.  It  was  lighted  by  lanterns,  which  sent 
a  starry  reflection  from  the  dripping  walls.  The 
whole  excursion  occupied  seven  hours. 

We  have  had  delightfully  clear  weather  at  Cha- 
mouni ;  not  a  cloud  dimmed  the  rosy  light  of  sunset 
upon  Mont  Blanc,  and  his  snowy  summit  cut  a  clear 
outline  against  the  depths  of  the  early  sky  as  I  looked 
out  to  catch  a  glimpse  of  the  first  dawn  upon  his 
"bald  awful  head." 

Sept.  19.  A  memorable  day  was  the  one  on  which 
we  made  the  passage  of  the  Tete  Noire.  The  distance 
is  twenty-four  miles,  and  we  sent  forward  the  mules 
to  Argentiere,  and  took  carriage  to  that  last  station 
for  wheels.  The  morning  was  cold,  and  it  was  long 
before  the  sun  of  the  upper  world  visited  our  path. 
But  we  fortified  ourselves  with  a  meagre  breakfast, 
and  mounted.  I  have  been  assured  by  eastern  trav 
ellers  that  the  motion  of  a  mule  is  worse  than  that  of 
a  camel,  and  I  can  readily  believe  it.  Fortunately 
they  only  walk,  however  level  the  road;  but  the 
most  complicated  problem  in  my  mind  at  present,  is 
this :  Given,  a  mule  and  a  mountain ;  required,  the 
amount  of  possible  dislocation. 

The  road  across  the  Tete  Noire  is  a  very  good  one ; 
for  the  most  of  the  way  to  Trient  practicable  for 
wheels,  except  for  the  narrowness  of  the  road.  So 
far  as  the  Tete  Noire  rock  the  way  is  wonderfully 
wild,  hemmed  in  by  dark,  rocky  mountains  ;  one  of 
these  is  the  abode  of  innumerable  eagles,  which  keep 
the  inhabitants  of  the  neighboring  village  in  continual 


WAYSIDE     SKETCHES.  191 

terror,  as  they  have  been  known  to  pounce  upon 
little  children  and  bear  them  away  to  their  inacces 
sible  eyrie. 

The  path  becomes  narrow,  rocky  and  steep  as  it 
leads  up  to  the  height  of  Les  Montets,  the  dividing 
point  of  the  tributaries  of  the  Arve  and  Ehone. 
From  this  summit  the  road  leads  along  the  Eau 
Noire,  a  dark,  clear,  deep  stream,  into  a  defile  con 
tinually  narrowing  and  deepening.  At  a  sudden 
turn  in  the  way  Henri  faced  the  mules  about  and 
exclaimed,  "Adieu!  Mont  Blanc!"  There  indeed, 
in  the  sharp  close  of  the  vista  formed  by  the  long 
ranges  of  mountains  on  either  hand,  rose,  fair  and 
solitary,  the  immaculate  crown  of  the  mighty  mount, 
grander  and  more  beautiful  by  being  deprived  of  the 
accessories  which  served  to  diminish  his  height  as 
seen  from  the  foot 

We  turned  ever,  with  lingering  gaze,  so  long  as 
any  part  of  the  spotless  outline  was  visible  against 
the  clear  blue  sky,  and  then  plunged  into  the  recesses 
of  the  savage  defile.  The  path  cut  the  edge  of  a 
gorge,  whose  depth  was  measured  by  endless  tiers  of 
tall  pines,  and  at  the  bottom  roared  the  foaming 
stream,  fretted  into  a  thousand  falls  by  the  opposing 
rocks,  the  mighty  droppings  of  the  overhanging 
mountains.  I  do  not  know  whether  it  may  be  the 
effect  of  excitement,  or  that  one  learns  implicit  faith 
in  guide  and  mule,  but  the  sense  of  danger  seems 
dormant  while  one  gazes  down  from  the  unguarded 
edge  of  a  path,  where  you  may  drop  a  pebble,  almost 


192  WAYSIDE     SKETCHES. 

from  your  stirrup,  a  thousand  feet  into  the  depths 
below.  A  slight  rail  served  to  give  an  appearance  of 
security  to  the  path  at  an  angle  of  the  mountain 
where  it  projected  far  over  the  precipice,  then  by  a 
sharp  turn  we  passed  under  the  arch  of  a  tunnel, 'hol 
lowed  through  the  solid  battlement  of  rock;  here 
rose  the  tall,  black,  dripping  face  of  the  Tete  Noire 
rock,  on  which  the  sun  never  shines. 

This  was  the  culminating  point  of  the  wild  gran 
deur  of  the  pass ;  that,  for  which,  if  for  nothing  else, 
the  passage  should  be  made.  A  few  minutes  brought 
us  to  the  hotel  of  the  Cascade,  situated  upon  a  point 
of  rock  which  commands,  at  one  glance,  the  wild- 
ness  and  grandeur  of  the  pass  from  which  we  had 
just  emerged,  and  the  beauty  of  the  leaping  cascades 
upon  the  other  side  of  the  chasm. 

Here  the  mules  were  to  rest  for  an  hour  and  a  half, 
and  having  taken  a  lunch,  we  walked  on  through  the 
magnificent  fir  forest  of  Trient,  where  continual 
streams  came  trickling  down  the  mountain  side,  and 
mosses,  ferns  and  flowers  bordered  the  way.  Even 
here  we  found  the  heather. 

As  we  turned,  at  last,  the  base  of  the  Tete  Noire, 
the  valley  opened  from  the  forest  along  the  banks  of 
the  now  quiet  river,  into  fields  of  some  cultivation ; 
where,  as  usual,  we  saw  only  womon  toiling  at  the 
hoe  and  scythe,  and  bearing  home  upon  the  back,  in 
heavy  burdens,  the  product  of  their  labor. 

We  walked  on  through  the  sheltered  valley  to 
Trient,  where,  as  the  way  seemed  to  lead  up  a  con- 


WAYSIDE     SKETCHES.     .  193 

siderable  ascent,  we  sat  down  to  await  the  arrival  of 
the  mules. 

We  had  passed  the  Tete  Noire,  and,  in  our  happy 
ignorance,  fancied  that  the  remainder  of  the  way 
was  descent;  what  was  our  consternation,  when  hav 
ing  attained  what  seemed  to  be  the  top  of  a  long 
slope,  we  found  it  only  the  first  reach  of  one  of  those 
detestable  zigzags,  by  which  it  seems  possible  to 
scale  the  face  of  any  hill,  not  absolutely  perpen 
dicular.  Far  above  us  showed  row  after  row  of  the 
same  pathway ;  on  we  went,  right  up  the  mountain, 
each  turn  seeming  still  more-  astounding  than  the 
last,  until  we  reached  the  Col  de  la  Forclaz,  fifteen 
hundred  feet  above  the  top  pf  Ben  Lomond. 

But  in  this  world,  the  penalty  of  elevation  is  de 
scent;  and,  having  got  up  the  mountain,  the  next 
thing  was  to  go  down.  At  the  bottom,  as  it  seemed 
but  a  bow-shot,  lay  Martigny,  in  the  broad  valley  of 
the  Khone,  which  spread  out  like  a  map  beneath  our 
feet ;  but  there  were,  nevertheless,  eight  mortal  miles 
of  zigzag  between. 

The  road,  despite  the  tiresome  twists,  was  beauti 
ful,  but  the  wood  soon  excluded  the  pretty  view  of 
the  valley.  As  we  trooped  along,  in  such  meditative 
mood  as  may  consist  with  a  precarious  seat  upon  the 
neck  of  a  mule,  a  shout  from  the  rear  faced  us  about 
to  a  tableau  at  once  terrifying  and  ludicrous;  the 
respected  head  of  our  party,  dismounted  beside  his 
prostrate  beast.  The  terror  lay  in  the  possibility  of 
serious  harm  to  the  rider ;  the  ludicrous  in  the  placid 


194  WAYSIDE     SKETCHES. 

air  of  the  animal,  who  wore  the  serenity  of  one  who 
has  made  up  his  mind.  I  had  remarked  his  cogita 
tive  manner  of  stopping  to  survey  certain  difficult 
passages  of  La  Flegere  the  day  before,  and  had 
been  amused  at  the  variety  of  changes  rung  upon 
"  Allez  !  en  avant !  marchez !  en  route  !"  with  which 
each  tug  at  his  bridle  was  enforced;  but  to-day, 
albeit  not  a  ruminating  animal,  he  had  evidently 
jumped  to  a  conclusion,  and  hence  his  attitude  of 
repose.  Fortunately,  he  had  couched  himself  with 
such  deliberation  that  the  rider  was  able  to  extricate 
himself  from  the  saddle  in  time  to  escape  injury. 
Sundry  cogent  arguments  from  the  baton  of  the 
guide  brought  mulct  to  his  feet,  if  not  to  his  reason, 
and  we  again  slowly  wended  our  way  downward. 

As  for  myself,  the  point  of  endurance  was  passed, 
and  I  deserted  my  four-footed  friend  for  my  own 
independent  locomotion.  One  plunge  across  the 
steep  interval  between  the  paths  put  me  beyond  the 
reach  of  my  lawful  guardians,  and  they  shouted  after 
me  a  commission  to  order  the  dinner  at  Martigny, 
while  I  addressed  myself  to  the  downward  way.  A 
line  of  flinty  pebbles  presented  itself,  crossing  the 
successive  meanderings  of  the  route,  wearing  the 
doubtful  aspect  of  either  pathway  or  water-course. 
A  countryman  assured  me  that  it  was  a  veritable 
path,  leading  to  Martigny,  but  added  with  hesitation 
that  it  was  "  un  peu  rapide,"  which  meant,  not  quite 
perpendicular.  I,  however,  pursued  the  unpromising 
way  —  it  might  sometimes  more  properly  be  said  to 


WAYSIDE     SKETCHES.  195 

have  pursued  me,  inasmuch  as  that  which  is  true  of 
a  part  is  true  of  the  whole  —  and  after  a  mile  or  two 
of  sharp  exertion,  I  arrived  at  tokens  of  human 
habitation.  The  descent  afterward,  although  in 
tensely  steep,  was  delightful.  It  was  a  charming 
afternoon  ;  the  free  inspiriting  mountain  air  breathed 
like  the  elixir  of  life.  I  deserted  the  flinty  cause 
way,  now  for  a  pretty  green  orchard,  now  for  a 
velvet  meadow;  stopping  here  and  there,  to  rest 
beside  a  stream,  or  to  exchange  greetings  with  the 
peasant  girls  at  work  in  the  fields.  Now  and  then  I 
encountered  the  friendly  face  of  a  specimen  of  the 
unmistakable  genus,  tourist.  As  the  shaggy  moun 
tain  descended  into  cultivation,  it  became  possible  to 
look  back  upon  the  heights  which  we  had  been  tra 
versing,  and  to  catch  distant  glimpses  of  the  trains 
of  riders  and  pedestrians  upon  the  galleries  above. 
On  the  opposite  side  of  a  ravine  which  seemed  also 
to  descend  from  the  mountain,  came  winding  down 
a  similar  caravan  from  the  pass  of  the  great  St. 
Bernard. 

I  lingered  with  reluctant  steps,  even  upon  the 
fatigue  of  that  long  walk,  for  it  led  away  from  Swit 
zerland  and  the  Alps;  and  in  that  solitary  way,  I 
realized  the  intensity  and  actuality  of  my  enjoyment, 
as  one  can  scarcely  do  when  his  perceptions  are  busy 
with  scenery,  and  his  sensations  with  a  mule. 

Presently  a  village  hum  floated  upward  upon  the 
breeze ;  the  whirr  of  a  mill,  the  creaking  of  wheels, 
the  evening  sound  of  herds,  and  the  voices  of  home- 


196  WAYSIDE     SKETCHES. 

ward  bound  laborers ;  a  cheerful,  welcome  contrast 
to  the  solemnity  of  the  lonely  mountains. 

The  village  of  Martigny  is  a  little,  crooked,  un 
couth  hamlet,  with  almost  city  pretensions,  in  its 
paved  streets  and  close  rows  of  dwellings.  Passing 
through  the  village,  the  way  to  the  city  stretched 
out  indefinitely.  I  inquired  the  distance,  and  was 
answered  by  the  usual  formula,  "ten  minutes;" 
which  is,  as  I  believe,  to  the  mind  of  a  continental, 
the  only  distance  less  than  an  hour. 

It  was  a  pretty  walk  —  long  trains  of  low  carts, 
piled  with  grapes,  came  trailing  along  the  broad 
shaded  road,  and  troops  of  harvesters,  laden  with 
their  implements  of  husbandry,  paced  beside,  merry 
with  song,  and  ready  with  a  courteous  greeting.  Yet 
the  lack  of  intelligence  and  the  distortion  of  figure 
often  visible,  is  very  painful — for  the  Yalais  is  the 
especial  haunt  of  cretenism,  and  goitre  displays  itself 
as  almost  the  normal  condition  of  the  inhabitants. 

A  fine  bridge 'crosses  the  swift  Dranse  at  the  en 
trance  of  the  city,  which  is  unlike  any  other  cities 
which  I  have  seen,  in  its  almost  rural  aspect.  The 
Hotel  de  la  Poste,  the  proposed  bound  of  my  walk, 
proved,  of  course,  to  be  at  the  further  extremity  of 
the  city,  but  I  arrived  at  last,  half  an  hour  in  ad 
vance  of  the  zigzagging  beasts  and  their  weary 
riders.  How  weary  were  all,  and  how  lame  were 
some  of  us,  one  should  cross  the  Tete  Noire  to  know. 

We  found  Martigny  a  very  pleasant  stopping 
place.  The  inn  had  the  appearance  of  having  served 


WAYSIDE     SKETCHES.  197 

in  some  of  the  past  ages  as  an  ecclesiastical  dwelling. 
It  was  certainly  very  unlike  an  inn  in  its  long  vaulted 
passages  and  ivied  cloisters.  The  table  was  better 
than  at  any  other  place,  city  or  country,  that  we  have 
found  upon  our  journey.  Here,  by  way  of  game, 
we  had  the  chamois,  not  the  goats'  flesh  which  has 
done  duty  in  so  many  places  for  its  wilder  brother. 

There  was  a  most  enticing  peak  stretching  up  into 
the  air  above   Martigny,  called  Pierre  a  voir,  com 
manding,  it  is  said,  the  whole  view  from  Mont  Blanc 
to  the  Jung  Frau ;  reached  by  five   hours  of  mule 
ay,  there's  the  rub.     The  descent  is  made  to  Mar 
tigny  le  bourg  in  three,  by  means  of  sleds,  drawn  by 
men ;    a   great   economy  of  time  and   fatigue,  but, 
doubtless,  subject  to  excitement  in  view  of  the  pds- 
sible   contingency  of    a   failure   in   the   locomotive 
power,  similar  to  that  which  attends  the  railway  de- 
.  scent  at  the  foot  of  Niagara.     However,  we  did  not 
attempt  Pierre  a  voir,  but  came  on  to  Si  on  by  rail, 
and  thence,  by  a  most  fatiguing  journey  in  the  inte 
rior  of  a  diligence  to  Brieg,  the  sleeping  place  upon 
the  Simplon  route. 

In  the  morning,  in  lieu  of  the  diligence  at  five 
o'clock,  with  the  possibility  of  a  place  in  a  lumbering 
omnibus  instead,  we  made  a  party  with  a  young 
British  officer,  fresh  from  the  tigers  of  India,  who 
bore  still  some  traces  of  their  familiar  acquaintance, 
and  took  a  carriage  and  four  for  the  pass,  leaving 
Brieg  at  eight  o'clock.  After  six  hours  of  hard 
climbing  we  still  overhung  Brieg  at  the  same  angle, 


198  WAYSIDE     SKETCHES. 

and  had  not  jet  turned  the  flank  of  the  great  Grliss- 
hone,  which  stared  us  in  the  face  in  the  morning. 

The  pass  of  the  Simplon  is  a  miracle  of  engineer 
ing  skill.     The  route  was  projected   by   the  great 
Napoleon   after   the   battle  of  Marengo,    and   com 
menced  in  1800.     It  was  completed  in  six  years,  at 
a  cost  of  more  than  eighteen  million  francs.     It  is  a 
magnificent  road,  from  twenty-five  to  thirty  feet  in 
width,  cut  like  a  thread  upon  the  precipitous  sides  of 
the  mountains;  supported    by  superb  masonry,  and 
overhanging   depths  which   disclose   at   every   turn 
scenes   of   the  grand   and   beautiful   below;    while 
above,  the  horizon  is  bounded  by  the  snow-capped 
peaks  of  the  Bernese  Alps  on  the  one  hand,  and  the 
rocky  fortresses  of  the  Savoy  summits  on  the  other. 
The  long  upward  route  follows  the  indentations  of 
the  mountains,  until  that  becomes  no  longer  possible, 
and  then,  by  a  grand  curve,  it  spans  the  chasm,  down 
which  the  Wiessbach  rushes,  roaring  and  foaming  to 
the  Khone,  and  begins  the  difficult  dangerous  ascent  on 
the  other  side.     This  part  of  the  road,  up  to  the  very 
summit,  is    swept   by    avalanches,  that  continually 
destroy  the  fortifications,  which  are  as  continually  re 
newed.     The  direct  curve,  by  which  the  road  almost 
returns  upon  itself  after  crossing  the  Wiessbach,  gives 
one  the  whole  view  of  the  pass  at  a  glance. 

Along  the  more  exposed  portions  of  the  route,  the 
road  passes  beneath  immense  galleries,  constructed  in 
heavy  arches,  opening  towards  the  valley,  which 
guard  the  road  from  obstructions  caused  by  the  fall- 


WAYSIDE     SKETCHES.  199 

ing  rocks;  and  where  the  face  of  the  mountain 
becomes  absolutely  inaccessible,  the  way  is  hewn 
through  the  solid  rock.  Every  where,  in  mid  air, 
rise,  alternately  peaks  and  glaciers ;  the  streams  from 
the  latter,  shooting,  ever  and  anon,  from  beneath  the 
road,  and  leaping  to  join  the  torrent  below. 

One  grand  cascade  from  the  enormous  Kaltwasser 
glacier,  is  carried  directly  over  the  gallery,  and  one 
sees  it  through  the  open  arches,  falling  in  a  glittering 
sweep  above  his  head. 

"Within  the  space  of  one  league  upon  this  dizzy 
crest,  are  six  houses  of  refuge,  some  of  them  rendered 
useless  from  their  exposure. 

One  often  hears  of  a  bird's-eye  view.  I  know 
nothing  that  so  nearly  approaches  the  reality,  as  the 
vision  that  lies  beneath  the  eye  of  one  clinging  to  the 
steep  sides  of  these  stupendous  mountains.  After 
passing  the  Kaltwasser  glacier,  the  distant  view  passes 
the  great  glacier  of  Aletsch,  and  reaches  the  spotless 
peaks  of  the  Bernese  Alps.  Below  lies  the  profound 
depth  of  the  valley  of  the  Rhone,  with  the  ubiquitous 
Brieg  still  in  full  view.  On  the  right,  tower  up  the 
mighty  slopes  of  ice  plains,  which  you  approach  so 
nearly  as  to  appreciate  their  immense  extent,  and  to 
have  also  a  shuddering  sense  of  the  dangers  which 
their  steady  march  hurls  upon  the  exposed  expanse 
below. 

The  summit  of  the  Simplon  is  a  sterile,  broken 
amphitheatre,  between  four  and  five  thousand  feet  in 
height,  bounded  by  dark,  rocky  pinnacles,  and  vast 


200  WAYSIDE     SKETCHES. 

glaciers,  whose  near  approach  is  appreciable  in  the 
frosty  air.  Here  is  a  hospice,  for  the  accommodation 
of  poor  travellers,  designed  by  Napoleon,  but  com 
pleted  only  so  late  as  1825. 

We  stopped  for  an  hour  at  the  desolate  village,  so 
far  removed  from  all  that  makes  life  enjoyable,  and 
despoiled  the  inn  of  all  the  supplies  of  its  larder. 

From  the  summit  one  passes  through  the  valley  of 
Algabi  to  the  valley  of  the  Gondo,  in  which  lies 
after  all,  the  wonder  of  the  Simplon  pass.  Here  all 
the  elements  of  savage  grandeur  seem  to  be  gathered 
in  the  wildest,  vastest,  sublimest  combination.  Here 
are  still  long  galleries  forced  through  the  stubborn 
rock ;  and  stupendous  masses  of  black,  fissured,  jag 
ged  cliff  overhang  the  road,  sometimes  at  the  height 
of  two  thousand  feet.  The  gorge  grows  narrower, 
darker,  more  appalling  at  every  step,  and  casts  all 
previous  experience  of  mountain  passes  into  the 
shade. 

The  Diveria,  at  a  fearful  depth,  hurls  itself  against 
the  mighty  fragments,  which  the  convulsions  that 
rent  this  awful  gap  have  cast  into  the  bottom  of  the 
abyss,  and  the  great  cascade  of  the  Alpeinbach  pours 
its  foaming  tribute  to  the  depth.  Here  you  traverse 
the  gallery  of  Gondo,  pierced  for  six  hundred  and 
eighty-three  feet  through  the  angle  of  the  mountain, 
and  emerge  to  the  same  oppressive  scenes. 

The  roar  and  gush  of  waterfalls,  and  the  beauty  of 
the  continual  silver  bands  that  glisten  on  the  oppo 
site  side  of  the  chasm,  relieve  in  some  degree  the 


WAYSIDE     SKETCHES.  201 

oppressive  solemnity  of  the  vast,  dark,  silent  masses 
of  rock,  towering  up  almost  to  shut  out  the  heavens, 
and  bearing  on  their  gnarled  and  distorted  brows  the 
fiery  marks  of  their  convulsive  birth. 

The  Diveria  is  crossed  by  several  fine  bridges,  one 
of  which,  near  Crevola,  ninety  feet  in  height,  is  a 
beautiful  structure  of  two  arches,  and  gives  once 
more  a  glimpse  of  the  profound  recesses  of  solitude 
and  gloom  from  which  we  have  emerged. 

No  contrast  can  be  more  striking  than  a  passage 
from  such  a  majestic  scene  as  the  valley  of  the  Gondo, 
to  the  soft,  smiling  landscape  which  greets  the  eye  a 
few  miles  farther  down  the  valley.  Fertile  plains, 
rich  with  crops  of  corn,  dotted  with  fruit  trees  or 
shaded  by  chestnuts,  with  here  and  there  glimpses  of 
white  villages,  fill  the  blue  distance,  and  we  sink 
rapidly  from  the  fresh,  pure,  bracing  air  of  the  Alps, 
to  the  heavy,  lifeless  atmosphere  of  an  Italian  valley. 

We  arrived,  at  night,  at  the  town  of  Domo 
d'Ossola,  (we  passed  the  Italian  frontier  at  Iselle,) 
where  we  made  our  first  experience  of  an  Italian 
hotel ;  and  truly,  if  that  pestiferous  dog's  hole  were 
to  prove  a  fair  type  of  the  rest,  we  should  soon  bid 
adieu  to  la  bella  Italia.  The  roo%is  were  very  large, 
floored  with  stone,  or  some  concrete  of  a  stony 
nature ;  the  sofas  like  beds,  and  the  beds  like  bed 
rooms ;  but  the  house,  according  to  Italian  custom, 
was  built  around  an  inner  court,  the  windows  of  the 
rooms  opening  upon  a  stone  balcony  which  overhung 
the  quadrangle ;  and  when  the  court  proved  to  be 


1,1 


202  WAYSIDE     SKETCHES. 

only  a  stable  yard,  with  all  its  paraphernalia  and 
occupations,  the  effect  upon  a  hot  summer  night  may 
be  more  easily  conceived  than  described.  Eager  to 
escape  from  such  a  den,  we  took  carriage  as  early  as 
possible  for  Arona,  and  the  drive  was  like  a  leaf  out 
of  a  fairy  tale.  The  plain  is  rich  and  cultivated ;  the 
vine,  a  plant  of  low  growth  in  Switzerland  and  Ger 
many,  is  here  allowed  to  twine  itself,  in  all  its  native 
grace,  about  the  low  trees  and  trellised  arbors.  The 
magnificent  chestnuts  spread  their  broad  arms,  laden 
with  golden  balls  ;  corn  stands  ripe  upon  the  sunny 
fields,  and  figs  droop  beneath  their  broad  leaves. 
Pearly  clouds  float  lazily  across  the  soft,  warm  sky, 
and  one  feels  indolence  creeping  over  him  at  every 
breath. 

Yesterday  we  drank  of  streams  dripping  from 
eternal  ice  ;  to-day  we  scare  the  lizards  from  the  hot 
wall  along  the  lovely  Lake  Maggiore.  This  beautiful 
lake  stretches  from  the  foot  of  snow-clad  hills  to 
almost  tropical  verdure.  Its  blue  depth,  bordered  by 
grand  mountains,  and  studded  with  the  beautiful 
Borromean  isles,  presents  a  scene  of  the  most  charm 
ing  description. 

We  passed,  upon  our  way,  immense  quarries  of 
white  and  red  granite  and  marble,  but  as  we  descended 
to  the  level  plain,  we  found  the  lake  ^bordered  with 
elegant  villas,  with  every  charming  variety  of  garden, 
pleasure  ground  and  fountain,  and  all  that  enters  into 
the  most  fascinating  pictures  of  Italian  scenery.  It 
is  a  favorite  summer  resort  for  the  rank  and  wealth 


WAYSIDE     SKETCHES.  203 

of  Italy,  as  well  as  for  foreigners,  especially  the 
English.  The  road  beside  the  lake  is  superb,  built 
upon  massive  granite  foundations,  and  edged  along 
the  lake,  as  upon  the  sides  of  the  mountain,  with  battle 
ments  of  solid  mason  work.  We  stopped  for  dinner 
at  Baveno,  the  most  picturesque  point  upon  the  shore, 
nearly  opposite  Tsola  Bella. 

This  island  is  a  wonderful  instance  of  the  victory 
of  wealth  and  labor  over  the  disadvantages  of  Nature- 
Here,  more  than  two  hundred  years  ago,  the  pro 
prietor,  one  of  the  family  of  Borromeo,  built  a 
chateau,  and  caused  soil  to  be  transported  to  the 
barren  rock,  upon  which  he  built  terraced  gardens, 
planted  with  the  growth  of  all  climates,  fruit,  shrub 
and  flower.  The  same  design  has  been  furthered  by 
the  possessors  ever  since,  and  the  chateau  and  gardens 
are  now  the  daily  resort  of  travellers. 

We  made  our  journey,  still  beside  the  beautiful 
waters,  so  far  as  Arona,  nearly  at  the  bottom  of  the 
lake,  a  pretty  place,  where  we  spent  two  days ;  but  as 
my  own  views  were  limited  to  the  hangings  of  my 
bed,  I  can  say  little  of  its  attractiveness.  I  lay,  with 
the  summer  air  floating  in  from  the  lake,  and  listened 
to  the  soft  musical  Italian  voices  of  the  children  at 
play,  or  the  women  at  work  under  my  window,  and 
was  charmed  with  the  liquid  utterance  which  trans 
forms  the  stately  old  Eoman  tongue  into  the  loving, 
tender  tones  of  the  sweetest  language  in  the  world, 


204  WAYSIDE     SKETCHES. 


CHAPTER  X. 

ITALY. 

Milan  —  Venice. 

FEOM  Arena  we  came  by  rail  to  Milan,  a  truly 
splendid  city,  through  a  country  essentially  American 
in  all  its  features ;  corn  and  peaches,  and  even  pump 
kins,  reminding  us  of  a  fair  land  many  leagues  away. 
We  passed  through  the  battle-field  of  Magenta,  seven 
miles  in  length,  and  by  a  field  filled  with  the  buried 
heaps  of  dead.  Milan  is  all  alive — for  Victor 
Emanuel  reviews  here  the  troops  of  United  Italy  to 
morrow. 

Sept.  25.  The  morning  opened  inauspiciously  for 
the  grand  parade,  nevertheless  the  streets  were  beau 
tiful  as  a  picture.  The  windows  and  balconies  of  the 
elegant  buildings  were  decorated  with  banners,  and 
with  scarlet  and  crimson  hangings,  and  bright  with  gay 
groups  of  well  dressed  people.  The  pavement  was 
thronged  with  pedestrians,  among  them  remarkable 
the  beautiful  women,  with  their  graceful  head-dress 
of  black  lace,  and,  almost  as  numerous,  the  priests  in 
long  black  garments  and  queer  beavers. 

The  grand  cavalcade  through  the  streets  com 
menced  about  noon,  and  lasted  for  two  hours.  The 


WAYSIDE     SKETCHES.  205 

troops  were  fine,  dark,  soldierly  men,  in  the  early 
prime  of  manhood,  well  equipped  and  handsomely 
uniformed.  Most  of  the  officers,  and  many  of  the 
rank  and  file  wore  medals  which  bespoke  acquaint 
ance  with  active  service.  The  cavalry  had  been  re 
viewed  on  Monday  at  Soma,  and  these  troops  con 
sisted  of  infantry  and  artillery.  It  was  altogether  a 
striking  display  of  soldiery,  and  for  the  number  and 
rare  beauty  of  the  horses,  all  apparently  in  military 
training,  I  presume  it  could  not  be  surpassed  in  any 
country.  We  saw  not  less  than  four  thousand,  and 
among  them  were  the  finest  specimens  of  steeds  I 
ever  saw.  The  dainty,  delicate-limbed  creatures 
seemed  to  enter  into  the  spirit  of  the  pageant,  and 
paced  proudly  through  the  thronged  streets,  as  if 
aware  of  their  claims  to  admiration.  Their  riders 
wore  the  military  air  to  perfection. 

The  artillery  consisted  of  three  hundred  and  seven 
pieces,  officered  and  manned  in  batteries  of  six,  each 
piece  drawn  by  five  horses,  and  each  caisson  by  four 
or  five.  Victor  Emanuel,  with  the  royal  guard, 
brought  up  the  rear.  He  is  a  stout,  dark  visaged,  be- 
whiskered  man,  and  touched  his  chapeau  with  grave 
and  courteous  salute,  in  return  to  the  acclamations  of 
the  multitude,  as  be  pursued  a  tedious  way  through 
the  long  streets  to  the  place  of  review  without  the 
city  gates.  Conspicuously,  in  his  immediate  com 
pany,  rode  a  jet  black  dignitary,  evidently  of  no 
mean  rank,  attired  in  a  costume  as  gorgeous  as  scar 
let  and  jewels  and  broidery  could  make  it ;  his  bear- 


206  WAYSIDE     SKETCHES. 

ing  among  the  nobles,  quite  unconscious  of  any  infe 
riority  arising  from  color.  It  was  a  beautiful  picture 
—  the  vista  of  the  magnificent  street  closed  by  the 
wonderful  Cathedral. 

Helmets  glittered  and  plumes  floated  above  "the 
tossing  sea  of  steel "  that  poured  its  stead}'  tide  along 
the  crowded  way ;  and  the  whole  air  of  the  martial 
throng  was  that  of  no  holiday  pageant,  but  as  if  com 
posed  of  men  wonted  to  conflict,  who  had  faced  the 
dangers  and  wore  the  honors  of  deadly  combat. 

Altogether  we  felt  ourselves  to  be  very  fortunate 
in  having  an  opportunity  of  witnessing  a  parade,  at 
once  so  warlike  and  so  royal — and  that,  too,  within 
the  walls  of  the  ancient  and  superb  city  of  princes  — 
Milan. 

There  was  an  undertone  running  through  all  the 
pleasure  of  the  display  for  me.  I  tried  to  see  it 
through  the  eyes  of  one  who  came  back  to  his  native 
city  last  night,  from  an  exile  of  forty  years.  My 
heart  was  touched  with  the  eager  joy  of  the  stately 
old  man,  as  he  welcomed  the  sight  of  the  proud  city ; 
for,  after  forty  years'  wandering  in  foreign  lands,  in 
the  restless  life  of  a  proscribed  man,  what  could 
remain  of  the  tender  ties  and  intimate  friendships 
that  make  home  arid  country  worth  having ;  and  I 
wondered  if,  to  the  long  exiled,  gazing  apart  at  this 
splendid  show,  the  joy  or  the  anguish  of  the  return 
were  the  keener. 

We  have  visited  the  wonderful  Cathedral,  but 
to  my  great  regret  I  was  obliged  to  take  the 


WAYSIDE     SKETCHES.  207 

beauties  of  the  roof  at  second  hand,  and  was  un 
able  to  explore  half  the  wonders  of  the  interior. 
There  are  some  remarkable  combinations  in  this 
edifice,  which  distinguish  it  from  all  others.  The 
first  noticeable  feature  is,  that  while  it  is  a  structure 
of  vast  size,  its  architecture  is  of  such  airy  lightness 
and  grace  as  to  destroy  the  effect  of  massive  solidity 
which  usually  belongs  to  buildings  of  grand  propor 
tions  ;  and  it  seems  rather  an  serial  fabric,  such  as  the 
fancy  frames  of  the  summer  clouds,  than  a  gigantic 
pile,  fashioned  by  the  chisel  and  wrought  by  the 
hammer. 

Its  snowy  purity,  too,  as  it  sleeps  beneath  the  soft 
blue  Italian  heaven,  charms  the  eye,  hitherto  accus 
tomed  to  associate  dark  weather-beaten  walls  and 
ivied  towers,  with  architectural  antiquity. 

Another  wonder  is,  that,  while  every  part  of  the 
vast  edifice  is  in  perfect  harmony  with  the  whole, 
each  part  is  finished  in  a  design  peculiar  to  itself,  and 
different  from  all  its  correlatives.  From  cope  to 
foundation,  upon  column  and  buttress,  tower,  flying 
buttress,  window,  turret,  pinnacle  and  spire,  neither 
statue,  leaf  nor  flower  is  reproduced ;  no  design  re 
peated.  I  doubt  if  another  such  instance  of  imita 
tion  of  the  divine  creation,  in  countless  variety, 
subordinate  to  perfect  harmony,  can  be  adduced 
among  the  works  of  man. 

I  was  especially  astonished  and  delighted  with  the 
exquisitely  wrought  pierced  roof,  and  still  more 
astonished  to  find  afterwards  that  the  whole  was  a 


208  WAYSIDE     SKETCHES. 

marvellous  painting  in  fresco.  The  roof  is  supported 
on  thirty- six  magnificent  columns,  whose  capitals  are 
finished  in  the  same  endless  variety  before  men 
tioned. 

The  church  is  filled  with  sculpture,  some  of  it  of 
colossal  proportions.  One  remarkable  statue  repre 
sents  St.  Bartholomew  wearing  his  own  skin  as  a 
mantle,  after  having  been  flayed. 

We  were  shown  into  the  sacristy,  to  examine  the 
treasures  bequeathed  to  the  church  by  San  Carlo 
Borromeo.  They  are  preserved  in  tall  cupboards 
which  line  the  sacristy,  and  whose  massive  doors  are 
opened  by  means  of  a  windlass. 

It  is  impossible  to  convey  any  idea  of  the  wealth 
of  gold,  and  silver,  and  jewels,  which  is  here  en 
shrined  ;  the  Sacristan,  of  whom  we  inquired  its 
value,  said  it  was  many  millions,  but  beyond  any 
power  of  accurate  estimate.  Great  solid  gold  and 
silver  crosses  and  crosiers  many  feet  in  height ;  can 
dlesticks,  patens,  bowls,  books,  boxes  inlaid  with 
jewels;  emeralds,  rubies,  sapphires  of  a  size  to  make 
one  think  the  Arabian  Nights  a  record  of  real  exist 
ences;  every  device  that  could  be  wrought  for  a 
church  dignitary  out  of  the  most  precious  gems  of 
the  earth  are  here  deposited ;  a  vast  mine  of  utterly 
unused,  profitless  riches.  One  large  box  has  for  its 
cover  a  splendid  mass  of  rock  crystal,  in  its  natural 
state,  taken  from  Mont  Blanc,  bound  and  cased  in 
gold. 

From  the  sacristy  we  descended  to  the  crypt  before 


WAYSIDE     SKETCHES.  209 

the  High  Altar,  which  contains  the  chapel  of  Cardi 
nal  Borromeo.  The  walls,  except  where  they  are 
interpaneled  with  rich  hangings,  are  of  solid  silver, 
wrought  into  many  exquisite  designs ;  and  pictures 
in  alto  relievo  of  silver  surround  the  chapel,  repre 
senting  scenes  in  the  life  of  San  Carlo  from  his  birth 
to  his  beatification. 

They  represent  him  in  acts  of  munificence  to  the 
poor,  for  which,  indeed,  he  seems  to  have  been  distin 
guished,  if  there  be  any  faith  in  tradition. 

One  figure  symbolizes  his  liberality  by  a  cornu 
copia,  out  of  which  is  pouring  a  mass  of  real  silver 
dollars.  The  great  wonder  of  all  is  the  sarcophagus 
of  the  saint.  It  is  of  rock  crystal,  pure  and  transpa 
rent,  from  Brazil,  the  gift  of  Philip  the  Second,  of 
Spain.  Within  lies  ghastly  the  embalmed  Borromeo, 
in  full  canonicals,  covered  with  jewels.  Across  pre 
sented  by  Marie  Therese  is  pendent  in  the  coffin, 
made  of  diamonds  and  emeralds,  and  valued  at  a 
million  of  francs.  The  elaboration  of  the  whole 
chapel  was  a  gift  of  the  artists,  so  that,  in  calculating 
its  value,  only  the  intrinsic  worth  of  the  precious 
stones  and  metals  is  regarded;  and  the  chapel  is 
estimated  at  six  millions  of  francs. 

I  regretted  exceedingly  not  being  able  to  ascend 
to  the  roof  of  the  Cathedral  —  as  my  friends  assure 
me  that  a  nearer  view  of  the  statues,  and  the  wonder 
ful  designs  of  the  pinnacles  and  flying  buttresses, 
greatly  enhances  the  admiration  of  the  beautiful 
structure. 


210  WAYSIDE    SKETCHES. 

From  the  Cathedral  we  went  to  see  the  Last  Sup 
per,  by  Leonardo  da  Vinci,  in  the  refectory  of  the 
Church  of  Santa  Maria  della  Grazia. 

The  profane  have  invaded  the  sacred  precincts  of 
the  church,  and  the  ancient  cloisters  are  now  dese 
crated  to  the  uses  of  a  stable.  But  the  room  con 
taining  the  picture  still  remains  devoted  to  its 
exhibition.  It  is  painted  upon  the  wall,  and  occupies 
the  entire  width  of  the  room.  The  figures  are  almost 
colossal,  but  their  great*  size  does  not  immediately 
strike  one,  from  their  perfect  proportion.  The  pic 
ture  is  greatly  defaced,  but  the  wonderful  beauty  of 
the  face  of  the  Lord  shines  fair  through  all  the  harm 

O 

that  time  and  restoration  have  done  to  the  rest  of  the 
painting,  and  shows  the  hand  of  the  almost  inspired 
master.  What  a  pity  that  the  great  painter  could 
not  have  had  a  foreshadowing  of  his  own  fame,  and 
have  painted  his  picture  upon  less  perishable  ma 
terials. 

Sept.  26.  Left  Milan  in  the  afternoon  for  Venice. 
Were  stopped  at  Peschiera,  a  name  of  which  the 
Yankee  "  pesky  "  is  an  undoubted  corruption.  We 
had  counted  upon  the  hour  given  in  Bradshaw  for 
rest  and  refection ;  on  the  contrary,  we  spent  it  in 
awaiting  the  slow  progress  of  the  investigations  by 
which  our  luggage  was  at  last  declared  to  be  peace 
ful.  The  examination  was  courteously  conducted, 
and  not  unnecessarily  minute;  but  the  use  of  the 
passports  was  not  quite  clear. 

One  is  in  the  habit  of  supposing   that  peculiar 


WAYSIDE     SKETCHES.  211 

institution  to  be  a  means  of  identifying  the  traveller 
as  the  innocent  individual  accredited  by  his  own 
government  to  the  good  faith  of  all  others.  That 
view  of  the  subject  turns  out  to  be  a  mistake. 

The  officer  received  the  passports,  en  masse,  on  our 
alighting  from  the  train ;  it  is  the  first  time  that  we 
have  produced  them.  After  the  examination  of  the 
luggage,  a  great  rush  ensued,  all  the  travellers 
gathering  as  closely  as  possible  to  the  counter  of 
the  pen  within  which  we  had  been  hitherto  confined. 
A  clerk  entered  with  a  huge  pile  of  passports  under 
his  arm,  and  proceeded  to  cry  the  names  thereto 
affixed,  to  the  best  of  his  Italian  power.  The  indi 
vidual  was  fortunate  who  could  see  his  own  passport 
as  it  was  held  up,  as  he  could  then  interpret  the  next 
cry  into  his  own  name,  and  reclaim  his  property. 

They  were,  at  last,  all  delivered,  duly  vised,  but 
whether  our  eyes  and  noses  correspond  to  the  decla 
ration,  or  we  be  adherents  of  Garibaldi  in  disguise, 
the  Austrian  government  will  never  know.  We 
passed  through  Vincenza,  Padua  and  Verona,  with  a 
strange  sense  of  familiarity  thrilling  us  from  the  old 
Shakspearean  associations ;  but  notwithstanding  the 
ciceronean  assurances  of  some  of  the  party,  we  did 
not  see  the  tomb  of  Juliet.  Arrived  at  Venice 
about  half-past  ten,  and  rowed  up  the  Grand  Canal 
in  a  floating  omnibus,  which  brought  us  at  last  to  the 
Hotel  Victoria,  once  the  Molini  Palace. 

I  was  awakened  in  the  morning  by  the  plash  of 
oars,  and  the  sharp  warning  cry  of  the  gondoliers, 


212  WAYSIDE     SKETCHES. 

as  they  rounded  the  corners  of  the  buildings  into 
the  various  canals.  Our  windows  look  upon  a  narrow 
canal,  heavy  and  green,  upon  which  float  all  kinds  of 
tribute  from  the  Venetian  kitchen.  According  to  our 
usual  custom  we  had  ordered  rooms  as  low  as  possi 
ble  to  avoid  the  necessity  of  superfluous  climbing. 
They  were  readily  accorded  us  here,  but  as  we  were 
ushered  up  to  the  fourth  story  to  the  dining  room,  it 
was  not  so  great  an  advantage  as  we  had  supposed. 

We  land  from  the  gondola  at  the  threshold  of  a 
spacious  and  lofty  hall,  with  marble  floor  and  seats, 
from  which  open  the  booking  office  and  the  various 
bureaus  of  such  an  establishment.  A  kind  of  gallery 
runs  round  the  upper  part  of  the  hall,  with  windows 
by  which  it  is  overlooked  from  the  first  story. 

In  the  conversion  of  palace  to  hotel,  the  spacious 
saloons  have  been  subdivided  into  bed  rooms,  eating 
halls,  &c.,  and  the  fanciful  patterns  of  the  concrete 
floors  are  deprived  of  their  designs  by  the  utilitarian 
divisions. 

We  had  been  recommended  to  this  hotel  as  being 
upon  the  square  of  St.  Mark,  but  except  that  it  is 
built  upon  the  same  little  island  with  the  square  of 
St  Mark,  that  is  a  mistake. 

After  breakfast,  we  sallied  forth  to  visit  the  square. 
By  means  of  a  slight  balcony  that  overhung  the  canal, 
we  reached  a  narrow  passage,  damp  and  dirty,  very 
like  the  side  alleys  by  which  one  may  reach  back 
entrances  in  some  of  our  cities.  In  this,  and  many 
others,  it  is  possible  to  touch  the  walls  upon  both 


WAYSIDE     SKETCHES.  213 

sides  at  once.  The  larger  streets  are  seven  or  eight 
feet  in  width,  filled  with  shops,  long,  dark  and 
narrow. 

After  turning  sundry  corners  in  these  dismal  lanes, 
we  emerged,  at  last,  through  an  open  vaulted  court, 
into  the  veritable  square  of  St.  Mark.  It  has  around 
its  sides  the  Church  of  St.  Mark,  the  Ducal  Palace, 
and  the  public  buildings.  The  Campanile  is  here ; 
indeed  the  square  is  the  centre  of  interest  in  Yenice. 
Long  colonnades  run  round  the  open  space,  filled 
with  tempting  shops,  gold  and  silver  work  and  jewels 
constituting  the  greater  part  of  the  display,  and  on 
one  side  are  multitudes  of  cafes. 

The  custom  of  begging  by  means  of  merchandise 
is  here  carried  to  great  perfection.  We  were  pursued 
by  most  pertinacious  venders  of  articles  of  every 
description,  from  the  pretty  shell  ornaments  peculiar 
to  the  place,  down  to  a  live  mud  turtle,  the  proposed 
use  of  which  did  not  appear. 

The  Church  of  St.  Mark  is  singularly  brilliant  in 
effect,  albeit  it  is  so  unlike  ordinary  church  architec 
ture,  that  we  were  at  first  in  doubt  as  to  its  character. 
It  is  adorned  in  front  with  large  pictures  of  mosaic, 
brilliantly  colored  and  gilded.  Above  the  entrance 
are  bronze  horses,  said  to  be  very  perfect,  which  have 
undergone  various  mutations  of  fortune,  having  been 
brought  among  Venetian  spoils  from  Constantinople, 
carried  to  Paris  by  Napoleon,  and  finally  restored  by 
the  French.  The  interior  of  the  church  is  wonderful, 
in  being  of  mosaic  from  floor  to  dome.  The  pictures 


214  WAYSIDE     SKETCHES. 

of  the  walls,  the  entire  ceiling — in  fine  all  that  is 
usually  accomplished  in  ornament  by  painting,  is 
here  done  by  mosaics.  The  tesselated  floor  has  sunk 
in  many  waves  from  the  yielding  of  the  foundations. 
Indeed  the  only  wonder  is  that  such  heavy  edifices 
are  not  prostrated  by  the  slow  sapping  of  the  seas, 
during  the  ages  in  which  they  have  poured  their 
sluggish  tide  through  the  long  rows  of  piles  upon 
which  they  are  built. 

This  church  was  erected  in  the  ninth  century,  and 
was  constructed  and  enriched  by  the  spoils  of  Byzan 
tine  architecture.  The  Baptistery,  which  is  the  old 
est  part,  is  entirely  Greek ;  the  font  is  of  porphyry 
upon  a  marble  pedestal.  A  tomb  in  the  chancel  is 
said  to  contain  the  relics  of  St.  Mark,  brought  from 
Alexandria  and  deposited,  with  great  pomp,  in  this 
shrine.  Behind  this  tomb  are  several  slender  pillars, 
which  tradition  affirms  to  have  been  originally 
brought  from  Solomon's  Temple.  A  lighted  taper 
behind  them  showed  them  to  be  translucent. 

Some  of  the  doors  are  of  Corinthian  brass,  or,  as 
we  should  call  it,  bronze,  of  great  antiquity,  magnifi 
cently  wrought,  not  by  casting,  but  by  the  chisel  and 
hammer.  These  are  also  Greek  spoils.  There  is 
shown,  in  one  of  the  chapels,  a  stone  which,  as  the 
guide  related,  has  the  legendary  importance  of  having 
been  brought  from  Mount  Sinai.  Our  cicerone  was 
an  intelligent  person,  belonging  to  the  church,  and 
was  particular  in  his  statements ;  and  when  he  re 
lated  sundry  traditional  miracles,  he  took  care  to 


WAYSIDE     SKETCHES.  215 

prefix  "  the  tradition  says  ;"  on  being  questioned  as 
to  their  authenticity,  he  shrugged  his  shoulders  in  a 
manner  which  showed  that  he  laid  the  responsibility 
of  credence  upon  those  of  his  hearers. 

From  the  church  we  went  to  the  Ducal  Palace,  the 
mysterious  seat  of  the  doges,  of  whom  we  have  read 
and  dreamed  so  much,  and,  I  think,  with  about  as 
much  sense  of  their  living  reality  as  if  they  had  be 
longed  to  a  fairy  tale. 

A  broad  flight  of  marble  steps  leads  up  to  the  cor 
ridor,  which  runs  along  the  front  of  the  palace. 
From  that  ascends  the  golden  staircase,  trodden  only 
by  sovereigns,  at  the  top  of  which  the  doges  were 
crowned.  We,  albeit  sovereigns  in  our  own  right, 
were  shown  a  plainer  way  into  the  magnificent  halls, 
written,  to  the  spiritual  eye,  with  histories  more 
splendid  and  more  dark  than  crowd  the  page  of  any 
other  nation  upon  earth  —  Eome  excepted. 

The  walls  are  covered  with  the  paintings  of  Tinto 
retto,  Bassano  and  Titian,  fresh  and  gorgeous  as  if 
wet  from  the  brush  of  to-day.  They  are  both  alle 
goric  and  historic,  representing  the  power  and  the 
conquests  of  Venice  in  her  splendid  ages,  with  por 
traits  of  all  the  doges  and  many  senators. 

Besides  the  grand  state  apartments,  we  saw  the 
council  chamber  and  ante-chamber,  the  inquisitors' 
chamber  and  its  ante-room,  which  sent  a  chill  through 
my  blood  at  the  thought  of  the  invisible  record  upon 
those  walls,  awaiting  the  fiery  summons  which  shall 
call  it  into  legible  and  fearful  openness.  There  were 


216  WAYSIDE     SKETCHES. 

also  exhibited  the  doge's  private  apartments,  all 
adding  to  their  historic  interest  the  unfading  lustre 
of  art.  The  Austrian  government  turns  the  splendid 
palace  to  account  by  making  it  the  depository  of  a 
.library  and  a  museum  of  art. 

"We  were  attended  by  a  poor  old  guide,  whose 
occupation  is  evidently  almost  gone.  He  paced  hur 
riedly  along  these  charmed  halls  and  lofty  staircases, 
restlessly  conning,  in  a  whispered  utterance,  the  tale 
of  history  or  explanation  which  he  was  to  recite  at 
the  next  stage  of  exploration. 

After  traversing  the  palace  we  went  to  the  Bridge 
of  Sighs,  which  connects  it  with  the  state  prison  on 
the  other  side  of  the  canal.  It  is  a  closely  covered 
handsome  stone  bridge,  high  above  all  possibility 
of  scrutiny  from  below  —  through  the  openings  of 
whose  ornaments,  the  condemned  caught  his  last 
glimpse  of  the  outer  world. 

The  business-like  haste  of  the  guardians  of  all 
places  of  such  profound  interest,  leaves  you  no  op 
portunity  of  surrendering  yourself  to  the  spirit  of  the 
place,  and  gives  you  continually  a  sense  of  unreality ; 
in  consequence  of  which  you  often  enjoy  the  remem 
brance  of  an  interesting  spot,  with  a  keener  relish 
than  in  its  actual  presence. 

We  returned  to  descend  into  the  palace  prisons. 
One  dark  narrow  cell  is  styled  the  "  merciful,"  having 
a  pallet,  and  a  window,  not,  indeed,  opening  to  the 
light  of  heaven,  but  into  the  lighted  passages.  Here 
the  prisoner  passed  the  interval  between  accusation 


WAYSIDE     SKETCHES.  217 

and  condemnation.  I  doubt  if  any  interval  was 
wont  to  elapse  between  condemnation  and  execution, 
we  saw  no  place  allotted  to  it,  but  a  small  space 
deeply  enclosed  by  double  doors,  where  secret  crim 
inals  were  garroted. 

Thank  God  for  the  nineteenth  century !  I  do  not 
belong  to  those  who  worship  an  ideal  past. 

As  the  traveller,  in  gazing  at  a  long  range  of  fair 
mountains  upon  the  distant  horizon,  catches  only  the 
undulating  outline  of  the  sunlit  peaks,  and  sees 
nothing  of  the  dark  chasms  and  fearful  depths  be 
tween  ;  so  the  dreamer,  surrounded  by  the  evil  and 
folly  and  pettiness  of  to-day,  turns  longingly  back 
ward  to  the  far  vision  of  the  centuries,  where  he 
can  dimly  discern  the  splendors  of  military  prowess, 
the  grandeur  of  art,  and  the  magnificence  of  almost 
fabulous  wealth ;  forgetting  the  savage  defiles  of 
crime,  and  the  dark  secrets  of  abomination,  and  woe, 
and  cruelty  that  cursed  the  earth  through  all  those  bar 
barous  ages,  when,  wherever  the  palace  rose  on  high, 
the  dungeon  lurked  below.  It  is  only  when  one 
looks  down  from  above,  that  he  can  take  in  the  true 
proportions  of  nature  or  humanity. 

After  lunching,  as  one  should  in  Venice,  in  the 
open  air,  we  took  a  gondola  for  the  Academy  of 
Fine  Arts,  on  the  Grand  Canal,  where  we  enjoyed 
a  great  treat.  One  never  ceases  to  regret  that  so 
much  of  the  genius  of  the  great  masters  was  em 
ployed  upon  subjects  in  which  we  cannot  sympa 
thize. 

15 


218  WAYSIDE     SKETCHES. 

But  in  looking  at  such  a  picture  as  Titian's 
Assumption,  we  forget  all  dislike  of  the  subject  in 
admiration  of  the  painting.  There  is  another  great 
picture  of  Titian  here,  the  Entombment ;  but  hetero 
dox  as  it  may  be,  I  much  prefer  Rubens'  Descent.  I 
have  no  doubt  that  the  highest  appreciation  of  art 
places  Titian  almost  at  the  head  of  painters,  but  I  am 
not  equal  to  his  pictures,  and  found  far  more  pleasure 
even  in  such  a  picture  as  Raphael's  Julius  Second. 
There  is  a  splendid  modern  picture  in  the  Academy, 
of  Nebuchadnezzar  Receiving  the  Prophetic  Warn 
ing  of  Daniel. 

We  left  the  Academy  reluctantly  at  the  hour  for 
closing,  and  spent  the  afternoon  in  floating  upon  the 
Grand  Canal,  listening  to  the  continual  chime  of  the 
musical  bells,  and  hearing  names  familiar  to  the  lips 
of  the  gondolier,  which  have  seemed  to  us  to  belong 
only  to  the  realms  of  fiction. 

We  passed  palace  after  palace,  once  adorned  by 
wealth  and  rank  and  beauty,  but  now  inhabited  only 
by  domestics,  or  let  to  foreigners ;  while  their  noble 
heritors  either  suffer  forced  exile,  or  endure  voluntary 
expatriation  in  preference  to  the  Austrian  yoke. 
The  hate  of  the  Austrian  rule  is  very  apparent,  but 
fourteen  thousand  Austrian  bayonets  within  the 
decaying  city  are  strong  arguments  to  patience. 

The  Grand  Canal  is  three  hundred  feet  wide, 
winding  in  a  serpentine  line  through  the  midst  of 
the  city,  and  spanned  in  the  middle  by  the  bridge  of 
the  Rialto. 


WAYSIDE     SKETCHES.  219 

We  rowed,  the  next  day,  about  the  lagunes  and 
among  the  beautiful  islands,  of  which  there  are  more 
than  seventy  making  up  the  city. 

The  only  way  to  see  the  beauty  of  this  ancient 
realm,  is  to  recede  to  such  a  distance  upon  the  waters 
that  the  view  can  take  in  dome  and  tower  and  column 
and  palace,  the  strange  picture  that  "  floats  double," 
city  and  shadow,  upon  the  still  waters  of  the  Adri 
atic.  And,  circling  ever  about  the  silent  city,  it 
seems  ever  at  the  same  dreamy  distance ;  and  you 
wonder  always  what  may  be  within  its  heart,  if  you 
could  only  get  at  it,  and  what  is  now  the  life  within 
the  walls  of  the  Foscari  and  the  Contari. 

You  have  always  known  that  it  was  a  city  whose 
streets  are  water,  and  in  which  the  sound  of  wheels 
is  never  heard ;  that  it  is  filled  with  palaces  and 
churches,  and  that  the  doges  held  a  mysterious  fear 
ful  sway  within  these  walls;  and  that  is  all  you 
know  now,  and  it  seems  as  much  of  a  dream  as  ever. 

These  dark  green  waters  are  as  near  an  approach 
to  the  wave  of  Lethe  as  one  will  find  in  modern 
times ;  and  as  you  float  lazily,  amidst  the  soft  breath 
of  the  Venetian  sky,  which  envelopes  you  like  a  bath, 
it  is  no  very  easy  thing  to  bring  your  thoughts  to  the 
sharp  edge  of  a  business  world  and  its  every  day 
affairs.  Nothing  about  you  invites  you  to  do:  so. 
Boats  lie  upon  the  water  laden  with  fruits  and  vege 
tables  which  the  owners  seem  in  no  haste  to  sell ; 
others,  piled  with  grapes,  go  trailing  along  to  the 
wine-press;  here  is  a  gondolier  fishing,  and  there 


220  WAYSIDE    SKETCHES. 

another  basking  at  full  length  in  the  sun.  Nothing 
seems  alert  upon  the  waters ;  and  as  you  watch  the 
noiseless  dip  of  the  long  oar,  you  feel  the  Yankeeism 
oozing  out  at  the  finger  ends ;  and  grow  as  dreamily 
indolent  as  if  you  were  to  the  manor  born. 

The  avocations  of  the  inhabitants  arc,  in  no  degree, 
of  an  industrious  aspect ;  but  there  is  one  profession 
there,  which  seems  to  me  the  sublimity  of  the  dolce 
far  niente.  The  stock  in  trade  consists  of  a  slender 
pole,  pointed  with  a  rusty  nail,  usually  the  posses 
sion  of  a  squalid  old  man,  who  applies  the  nail  to  the 
side  of  your  gondola,  as  it  touches  the  step  of  the 
pier,  and  then  holds  out  his  unsightly  cap  for  a  rec 
ompense. 

I  could  fancy  Venice  to  be  a  far  better  place  to 
visit  with  a  traveller's  enjoyment  than  to  live  in. 
The  canals  and  lagunes  are  full  of  the  associations 
of  fiction  —  and  they  are  full  of  many  other  things 
also ;  and  if  one  had  ever  harbored  the  intention  of 
suicide  by  drowning,  it  is  not  in  Venice  that  he 
would  choose  to  carry  it  into  execution. 

And  then  the  mosquitoes!  they  make  night  as 
well  as  the  face  hideous,  and  the  traveller  is  fairly 
driven  out  of  the  domain  of  the  Queen  of  the  Adri 
atic  by  a  tiny  weapon  more  potent  than  the  Austrian 
bayonet. 

We  left  Venice  in  the  soft  gray  dawn  of  a  cloud 
less  morning.  The  moon  shone  full  and  fair  upon 
the  deserted  waters,  as  we  floated  down  to  the  rail 
way.  No  sound  of  step  or  hum  of  voice  arose  from 


WAYSIDE     SKETCHES.  221 

the  noiseless  city,  which  slept  upon  the  waves  as  if  it 
had  been  the  city  of  the  dead  ;  and  as  we  sped  along 
the  causeway  through  the  sea,  we  seemed  to  be 
awaking  from  some  oriental  dream,  rather  than 
"  doing  "  a  city  in  the  business-like  fashion  of  the 
nineteenth  century. 


222  WAYSIDE     SKETCHES. 


CHAPTER   XI. 


ITALY. 


Padua  —  Bologna  —  Appennines  —  Florence  —Pisa  —  Leghorn  —  The  Mediter 
ranean —  Civita  Vecchia. 


SEPT.  29.  We  arrived  early  at  Padua,  which  brings 
up  Shakspearean  memories,  despite  our  actual  experi 
ence  there. 

It  was  the  first  time  that  we  had  learned  the  utter 
helplessness  of  a  mute  traveller.  Not  a  soul  knew 
any  thing  except  Italian;  and  as  that  mellifluous 
language  happens  to  be  lacking  in  the  gift  of  tongues 
with  which  we  are  clothed,  they  had  it  all  their 
own  way,  and  an  Italian  way  is  sure  to  be  a  bad  one, 
so  far  as  order  or  system  is  concerned.' 

However,  one  learns  language  rapidly  under  the 
discipline  of  necessity,  and  we  did  obtain,  even  at 
Italian  hands,  a  cup  of  tea  and  a  piece  of  bread,  be 
sides  a  seat  in  a  carriage  to  Ferrara.  We  had  a  note 
of  commendation  from  our  Boniface  at  Venice  to 
the  landlord  of  the  Croce  d'Oro,  at  Padua,  but  it 
seemed  to  avail  us  nothing,  except,  perhaps,  the 
ensuring  us  a  passage  to  Ferrara  instead  of  the  reg 
ular  stopping  at  Ponte-lag  oscuro.  The  crossing  at 
the  latter  place  was  a  contrast  to  ordinary  trav- 


WAYSIDE    SKETCHES.  223 

elling.  The  swarm  of  vehicles  brought  up  suddenly 
from  a  prosperous  journey,  at  a  very  Styx;  the 
Charons  of  the  rude  ferry  boats  urged  their  craft 
slowly  along  the  shore,  culling  their  fare  from  the 
impatient  crowds  of  mingled  nationalities  upon  the 
bank,  and  rowed  us  leisurely  across  the  sluggish 
waters  of  the  Po,  amid  surroundings  which  seemed 
to  have  been  unchanged  for  a  century. 

The  journey  was  a  drive  of  nine  hours,  including 
two  hours'  detention  at  a  wretched  roadside  inn ; 
where  dinner  was  served  by  a  sort  of  industrious  man 
of  all  work,  to  whose  garments  adhered  the  dust,  hay, 
cobwebs,  feathers,  and  odors  which  denoted  the  mul 
tifarious  duties  of  his  calling. 

It  is  impossible  for  an  American  to  comprehend, 
without  having  seen,  the  amount  of  time,  vociferation, 
quarrelling  and  blunders  necessary  to  get  a  diligence 
under  weigh  in  this  land;  to  say  nothing  of  the 
"  lookers  on  in  Vienna,"  who  have  nothing  earthly  to 
do  except  to  add  to  the  confusion  and  beg. 

The  drive  was  through  a  perfectly  level  country, 
upon  a  superb  road,  smooth  as  a  floor,  and  stretching 
as  far  as  the  eye  could  reach  in  either  direction,  be 
tween  rows  of  tall  poplars,  bordered  by  fields  of  tol 
erable  cultivation. 

The  poplar  of  Lombardy  is  quite  a  different  affair 
from  its  namesake  on  our  side  of  the  water,  and  a 
really  handsome  tree.  The  vine,  which  is  here  appa 
rently  only  an  incidental  crop,  is  festooned  along  low 
trees,  forming  a  kind  of  hedge  about  the  fields,  with- 


224  WAYSIDE     SKETCHES. 

out,  however,  shading  the  growth  below.  The  wine 
of  the  country  is  harsh  and  crude,  partaking  largely 
of  the  nature  of  mingled  ink  and  vinegar. 

The  cattle  are  remarkably  fine ;  large,  well-made 
creatures,  nearly  white,  with  wide,  spreading  horns, 
retaining  some  of  the  characteristics  of  their  Alpine 
neighbors. 

After  the  custom  of  these  countries  to  turn  every 
thing  feminine  to  useful  account,  the  cows  are  em 
ployed  in  labor  quite  as  much  as  oxen.  A  very  good 
type  of  the  civilization  appears  in  a  team  whose 
motive  power  is,  conjointly,  a  woman  and  a  cow. 

The  women  of  the  peasantry  throughout  the  con 
tinent  strike  one  painfully;  there  is  nothing  womanly 
about  them ;  they  look  harder  and  uglier  than  the 
men,  and  it  is  difficult  to  see  how  they  could  ever 
have  been  attractive. 

Then,  the  beggars  spring  up  at  every  step  of  the 
way,  like  grasshoppers.  The  little  child,  just  able  to 
learn  the  whine  of  the  mendicant;  the  sturdy  lad 
who  makes  a  cartwheel  of  himself  for  your  especial 
edification,  or  clings  to  your  carriage  step  with  a 
doleful  story  about  his  "povre  padre"  or  "madre;" 
the  little  girl,  who  wails  forth  a  forlorn  ditty  to  remind 
you  that  you  are  in  the  land  of  song ;  the  mother 
with  her  baby  in  her  arms ;  the  gray-haired  old 
woman  who  improves  the  intervals  of  begging  by 
spinning  on  a  portable  distaff;  the  bleared,  squalid 
old  man,  with  his  greasy  cap  under  your  nose;  and 
worst  of  all,  the  veritable  lord  of  creation  himself, 


WAYSIDE     SKETCHES.  225 

who  touches  the  strap  of  your  portmanteau,  and 
stands  inexorable  as  fate  for  something  which  sounds 
like  zecchi ;  all  hasten  to  swarm  about  the  doomed 
traveller,  as  if  his  only  object  in  travelling  were  to 
dispense  money  by  the  way  side. 

It  is  intolerable,  to  find  your  heart  growing  indif 
ferent  to  the  tokens  of  want,  or  harrowed  by  the  in 
cessant  sights  and  sounds  of  a  loathsome  humanity. 
This  beautiful  country  needs  nothing  but  the  people 
to  make  it  smile  into  Paradise,  but  at  present  a  sense 
of  disgust  is  interwoven  with  all  that  it  presents  of 
attraction. 

After  being  ferried  over  the  river  at  Ponte-lag 
oscuro,  to  the  evident  disgust  of  the  commissioner 
who  accompanied  the  long  train  of  carriages,  we  were 
driven  to  Ferrara,  and  interpreting  our  ticket  liter 
ally,  he  carried  us  two  miles  beyond  the  railway 
station,  which  was  our  proper  destination,  to  the  city 
of  Ferrara,  how  degenerate  from  the  splendor  which 
the  name  calls  to  mind.  However,  after  some  vexa 
tious  delays,  we  arrived  safely  at  Bologna,  a  very 
ancient  city,  whose  sidewalks  run  through  arcades 
beneath  the  upper  stories  of  the  dwellings.  It 
seemed  to  me  to  bear  a  Moorish  aspect,  and  is  just 
now  remarkable  for  having  been  the  last  place  of 
Northern  Italy  wrested  from  the  papal  dominion. 

We  had  rail  from  Bologna  to  Vergato,  and  thence 
a  most  charming  route,  by  diligence,  across  the  Ap- 
penines  to  Pistoja.  The  carriages  were  easy  and  well 
appointed,  and  the  long  cavalcade  of  diligence  and 


226  WAYSIDE     SKETCHES. 

voiture  swept  along  the  smooth  road  like  a  whirl 
wind.  The  road  lay  along  a  valley,  or  in  easy  undula 
tion  for  about  half  the  way,  and  a  railway,  in  process 
of  construction,  followed  the  same  route.  Then  ad 
ditional  horses  were  attached,  and  we  toiled,  although 
still  rapidly,  up  a  veritable  mountain  pass,  the  same 
splendid  road  winding  through  the  difficult  ways, 
and  bridging  the  narrow  gorges. 

The  scenery,  without  being  grand,  is  wild  and  pic 
turesque  ;  the  hills  often  crowned  with  chateau  and 
village,  and,  even  with  the  Alps  by  heart,  some  of 
these  were  very  respectable  mountains. 

In  this  part  of  the  way  the  railway  exhibits 
magnificent  engineering.  The  road  makes  straight 
through  the  depths  of  the  mountains  by  tunnels, 
which  are  beautiful  in  their  solid  strength,  and  in 
one  place  is  carried  over  a  long  gorge  upon  a  set  of 
massive  arches,  which  will  challenge  the  admiration 
of  many  generations. 

Through  all  this  beautiful  country,  with  the  tramp 
of  Eoman  legions  ringing  in  your  ears,  there  is  the 
same  literally  running  accompaniment,  the  same 
eternal  whine.  You  cannot  give  the  friendlv  look 
of  recognition  which  was  so  heartily  returned  in 
Germany,  for  it  makes  you  ashamed  of  your  race  to 
find  the  return  only  an  application  for  money.  We 
have  never  seen  a  peasant  in  the  country  clad  in  a 
new,  or  clean,  or  whole  garment;  -as  for  the  children, 
they,  happily,  do  not  suffer  in  this  climate  by  the 
grievous  lack  of  any. 


WAYSIDE     SKETCHES.  227 

We  thundered  down  from  the  hills  at  a  rate  like 
the  travels  of  the  great  Napoleon,  and  whirled 
through  a  most  beautiful  plain,  cultivated  and  orna 
mented.  The  mountains  had  been  covered  with 
grand  chestnuts,  the  plain  was  filled  with  figs, 
peaches,  vines  and  olives.  The  charming  scene 
made  one  long  for  the  time  when  the  iron  heel  of 
tyranny  and  priestcraft  shall  be  lifted  from  the  down 
trodden  head  of  knowledge  and  industry,  -  and  the 
people  and  the  soil  be  permitted  to  develope  resources 
which  will  make  Italy  the  garden  of  the  earth. 
There  is  much  in  the  soil  and  productions  of  the 
country  to  remind  us  of  our  own  country. 

From  Pistoja  we  came  again  by  rail  to  Florence, 
and  have  been  watching  the  dying  tints  of  sunset 
upon  the  still  waters  of  the  Arno. 

Sept.  31.  We  made  a  short  tour  of  exploration 
among  the  beautiful  mosaics  of  Florence,  a  work  of 
art  of  which  the  city  is  jealously  proud — and  then 
went  to  the  Ufnzi  palace. 

It  doss  not  become  me  to  speak  of  the  merits  of 
such  a  gallery.  I  can  only  mention  some  of  the 
things  that  particularly  interested  us ;  among  which, 
of  course,  stands  pre-eminent  the  Yenus  de  Medici. 
It  is  a  wonder  of  beauty ;  the  figure  and  limbs  out 
strip  rivalry,  but  to  my  poor  taste,  Powers  has  more 
than  once  surpassed  it  in  feature  and  expression.  I 
suppose  it  is  entirely  in  keeping  with  the  different 
ages,  that  the  centuries  in  which  life  was  mainly  ma 
terial  and  sensuous,  should  produce  its  highest  per- 


228  WAYSIDE    SKETCHES. 

fection  in  the  delineation  of  merely  physical  nature, 
without  much  regard  to  that  soul  beauty  which  con 
stitutes  for  us  the  highest  type  of  loveliness. 

Of  the  paintings,  I  liked  best  two  demi-figurcs  of 
great  beauty — a  Magdalen  by  Dolci,  and  La  Yierge 
des  Douleurs,  by  Salvi.  There  were,  also,  among 
the  most  valuable  pictures,  two  by  Kubens,  Silenus 
and  a  Satyr,  and  a  group  of  Bacchanals ;  a  Magdalen 
and  a  St.  Francis,  by  Allori ;  a  Virgin  and  Child  ; 
The  Virgin  of  the  Well;  St.  John  in  the  Desert;  a 
portrait  of  Charles  the  Fifth,  and  another  of  Julius 
the  Second,  all  by  Kaphael.  A  head  of  Medusa,  by 
Da  Vinci ;  a  head  of  St.  John,  by  Corregio,  a  splen 
did  picture ;  San  Carlo  Borromeo  and  the  Sufferers 
by  Pestilence,  by  Bonatti ;  a  Virgin  and  Child,  by 
Titian ;  Judith  and  Holofernes,  by  Artemisia  Genti- 
lischi ;  St.  Zanobi  restoring  a  child  to  life,  by  Ghir- 
landajo;  and  a  beautiful  Cascade  of  Teverone,  at 
Tivoli,  by  a  French  artist,  Tierce. 

One  small  room  was  filled  with  exquisite  sculptures 
in  bas  relief,  of  which  two  were  especially  beautiful, 
the  death  of  the  wife  of  Francis  Tornabuoni,  and 
the  recluses  of  Vallombrosa  attacked  in  the  choir  by 
the  Simonites.  Many  of  these  charming  sculptures 
have  been  mutilated  by  soldiers  lodged  in  the  mon 
astery  of  St.  Salvi,  where  they  were  preserved. 

One  room  is  filled  with  gems  and  vases  of  great 
price.  Among  the  most  interesting,  although  per 
haps  not  the  most  appreciable  things  in  the  immense 
collection,  are  sketches  and  studies  by  the  great  mas- 


WAYSIDE     SKETCHES.  229 

ters  of  art,  Titian,  Raphael,  Guido,  Da  Vinci,  Salva- 
tor  Rosa,  Poussin,  and  many  others. 

In  the  same  palace  is  a  library,  in  which  we  saw 
the  manuscripts  of  Tasso,  Dante,  Boccacio,  and  Vir- 
gil;  also  illuminated  books,  printed  on  vellum,  and 
adorned  with  exquisite  designs  by  pen  and  brush. 
Splendid  vellum  editions  of  Homer,  Virgil,  and 
Dante,  and  illuminated  missals  of  great  beauty  testify- 
to  the  perfection  to  which  both  the  arts  of  printing 
and  painting  were  carried  in  ages  which  we  are  apt  to 
dispose  of  summarily,  by  considering  them  as  little 
removed  from  the  middle  darkness. 

The  gallery  of  the  Pitti  palace  contains  far  more 
of  interest  than  that  of  the  Ilffizi.  Here  were  some 
magnificent  portraits  by  Raphael,  Da  Vinci,  and  Tin 
toretto  ;  marine  pictures  by  Salvator  Rosa ;  a  Venus 
and  Vulcan,  by  Tintoretto ;  Narcissus,  by  Curradi ; 
a  Virgin  and  Child,  by  Murillo ;  the  Hospitality  of 
St.  Julien,  by  Allori  ;  Diogenes,  by  Dolci ;  St.  John, 
by  the  same ;  a  grand  St.  Peter,  by  Guido ;  a  very 
fine  Cromwell,  by  Lely ;  Leo  the  Tenth,  by  Raphael, 
with  countless  repetitions  of  the  favorite  sacred  sub 
jects,  by  the  masters ;  all  striking  for  some  peculiar 
excellence. 

Not  being  able  to  make  such  a  stay  in  Florence  as 
would  enable  us  to  study  these  splendid  galleries,  it 
became  necessary  to  pass  by  numberless  pictures  of 
interest,  and  to  fix  the  attention  upon  the  few  most 
pleasing  to  our  individual  tastes.  And  a  great 
pleasure  it  was,  but  one  more  easily  garnered  up  in 


230  WAYSIDE     SKETCHES. 

the  memory  than  described  by  any  thing  short  of  a 
catalogue.  * 

Scattered  about  the  saloons  were  tables  of  great 
beauty,  mosaics  of  precious  stones,  one  of  green 
malachite,  very  like  the  splendid  table  at  Chatsworth. 

We  came  away  unsatisfied,  with  a  deepened  rever 
ence  for  the  power  of  the  few  masters  whose  works, 
even  amid  so  much  genius,  stand  out  pre-eminently 
and  unapproachably,  the  acknowledged  sovereigns  ol 
art.  We  still  look  back  to  the  Descent  from  the 
Cross  as  first  among  the  pictures  that  we  have  yet 
seen,  although  I  doubt  if  Kubens  would  have  the 
first  place  if  judged  by  his  other  works. 

Oct.  1.  Visited  the  Duomo,  but  did  not  find  its 
interior  present  unusual  interest.  It  is  filled  with 
busts  and  statues,  and  an  unfinished  Pieta,  by  Michael 
Angelo  himself,  stands  behind  the  High  Altar. 

The  exterior  is  of  black,  white,  and  green  marble, 
and  beautiful  indeed.  My  friends  went  to  the  top  of 
the  Campanile,  but  I  contented  myself  meanwhile 
with  a  stroll,  in  the  course  of  which  I  went  through 
a  market,  filled  to  profusion  with  fruits  and  vege 
tables,  tomatoes,  peaches,  lemons,  and  huge  bunches 
of  grapes  that  reminded  one  of  Eschol,  and  all  at 
prices  ludicrously  small. 

There  is  something  very  fascinating  in  the  vaga 
bond  life  which,  by  common  consent,  the  traveller 
may  live  in  this  luxurious  climate;  supplying  his 
own  wants  how  and  where  he  will,  and  roving  at 
pleasure  among  the  choicest  works  of  ancient  and 


WAYSIDE    SKETCHES.  231 

modern  art  We  went  to  the  Church  of  San  Lorenzo, 
but  found  it  closed,  to  our  great  chagrin.  It  contains 
the  tombs  of  the  Medici,  and  the  great  statues  of 
Night  and  Morning,  by  Michael  Angelo.  We 
visited  also  the  home  of  this  great  artist.  The  splen 
did  s*uite  of  apartments,  once  the  scene  of  his  labors 
and  enjoyments,  is  kept  in  beautiful  preservation. 
The  walls  are  covered  with  frescoes  or  hung  with 
paintings,  some  of  them  by  the  master  himself. 
Here  are  some  of  his  own  works  in  bas  relief,  and 
studies  and  models  of  his  great  work  at  Kome.  His 
own  furniture  still  occupies  his  library,  and  the  tiny 
cabinet  is  unchanged,  in  which  sprang  into  being  the 
wonderful  creations  which  he  afterwards  embodied 
for  the  world,  and  there  still  remains  his  own  por 
trait,  painted  by  himself.  The  house  is  still  in  the 
possession  of  the  Buonarotti  family,  and  they  do 
honor  to  the  great  name,  by  the  sedulous  care  with 
which  every  relic  of  the  painter  is  preserved  fresh 
and  inviolate. 

We  passed  the  Casa  Guidi,  the  home  of  one  who 
loved  Italy  with  her  whole  great  heart,  and  went  to 
Powers'  studio.  The  New  World  has  vindicated  her 
claims  to  genius,  even  beside  the  undying  memorials 
of  Grecian  and  Italian  art. 

Mr.  Powers  has  certainly  the  power  of  transfusing 
the  ideal  or  the  individual  into  his  marble  heads,  as 
the  ancients  did  not  often  do,  perhaps  because  there 
was  not  so  much  to  delineate  in  the  faces  of  their 
models,  but  his  figures  must  yield  to  the  beauty  of  the 


232  WAYSIDE     SKETCHES. 

Greek.  One  may  study  sculpture  in  the  streets  of 
Florence.  Art,  here,  bestows  her  charms  as  prodi 
gally  as  nature  showers  the  abundance  of  her  riches. 
Statues  are  every  where.  I  could  not  help  wondering 
how  long  the  Perseus  of  Benvenuto  Cellini  would 
have  remained  unmutilated  in  the  line  of  great 
thoroughfare  in  the  cities  of  our  own  land. 

"We  drove  home  by  the  Uffizi,  by  the  portico  of 
statues,  where  stand,  in  stately  order,  beneath  the 
colonnade,  statues  of  men  whose  names  may  well 
make  Italy  proud,  for  they  number  among  them  the 
pious,  the  learned,  poets,  painters,  and  sculptors,  at 
whose  feet  the  world  does  homage. 

Florence  is  a  truly  beautiful  city,  and  a  most 
enticing  place  of  residence  for  a  foreign  winter. 
It  combines  the  charms  of  art,  society,  and  climate, 
in  no  ordinary  degree,  and  the  government  wisely 
throws  all  its  attractions  open  to  the  population 
of  strangers  which  resort  hither.  The  garb  or  the 
speech  of  a  foreigner  is  a  passport  to  palaces  and 
galleries,  which  are  quite  inaccessible  to  the  native 
inhabitants. 

We  leave  Florence  with  great  regret  that  cm- 
plans  of  return  to  America  forbid  a  longer  stay 
amid  so  much  attraction  which  we  long  to  explore, 
and  so  many  works  of  art  which  we  long  to  revisit. 

Oct.  2.  Left  Florence  for  Pisa  ;  meeting  in  the  rail 
way  carriage  friends  from  America,  whom  we  are  to  re 
join  at  Home.  We  were  unexpectedly  delighted  at 
Pisa.  The  leaning  tower  is  a  beautiful  structure  of 


WAYSIDE     SKETCHES.  288 

marble,  well  rendered  by  the  many  pictures  which  we 
have  seen  of  it.  It  is  surrounded  by  columned  galler 
ies,  upon  which  the  broad  inner  staircase  emerges ;  of 
marble  so  polished  that  one  hesitates  to  trust  his 
footing  upon  the  undefended  space,  especially  in  such 
a  wind  as  was  blowing  when  we  adventured  ourselves 
upon  the  task. 

The  ascent  is  rendered  rather  fatiguing  by  the 
continual  change  in  inclination,  which  disappoints 
the  foot ;  and  there  is  something  nervously  suggest 
ive  in  the  vast  hollow  depths  into  which  we  look 
from  above.  My  own  head  fairly  refused  the  narrow 
outer  staircase  of  the  last  division,  and  I  climbed, 
instead,  a' slender  perpendicular  iron  ladder,  let  into 
the  inner  surface  of  the  wall.  There  is  a  chime  of 
seven  bells  upon  the  top,  so  arranged  that  the  heavi 
est  shall  assist  in  counteracting  the  inclination  of  the 
tower. 

The  cracks  in  the  marble  staircase  point  conclu 
sively  to  the  solution  of  the  question  whether  the 
inclination  be  intentional  or  accidental. 

The  tower  is  evidently  unfinished ;  perhaps  in 
consequence  of  the  sinking  of  the  foundation.  It  is 
a  beautiful  construction,  the  spiral  colonnade  giving 
it  a  very  pleasing  effect.  Adjacent  are  the  Cathedral, 
the  Baptistery,  and  the-  Campo  Santo ;  all  of  great 
interest  and  beauty. 

The  Cathedral  is  of  the  eleventh  century;  it  is 
surrounded  by  a  flight  of  steps,  and  is  built  of  alter 
nate  layers  of  white  and  red  marble.  It  has  suffered 

16 


234  WAYSIDE     SKETCHES. 

like  the  Campanile,  from  the  sinking  of  the  founda 
tions,  but  the  irregularity  does  not  strike  one  on  a 
cursory  view.  The  High  Altar  is  very  elaborate, 
built  of  marble  and  lapis  lazuli.  It  has  also  sunk 
to  such  a  degree  as  to  have  required  a  renewal  of  the 
front. 

The  church  is  filled  with  paintings,  which,  in  gen 
eral  excellence,  surpass  those  of  any  church  that  we 
have  visited.  Others  have  had  fine  paintings,  but 
here  are  many,  not  one  of  which  is  destitute  of  great 
merit;  and  in  coloring  they  are  magnificent. 

A  beautiful  head  of  St.  Agnes,  by  Del  Sarto,  en 
riches  the  church.  An  immense  alto  relievo  of  one 
piece  of  marble  represents  the  Temptation,  with 
figures  of  Adam  and  Eve,  of  more  than  life  size. 

The  serpent  is  represented  with  the  head  of  a 
woman ;  which  circumstance  the  guide  apologetically 
assured  me  resulted  from  the  ignorance  of  ancient 
ideas  upon  the  subject. 

There  are  here  two  other  fine  pictures  by  Del  Sarto, 
whose  paintings  possess  a  great  charm  for  me ;  the 
Virgin,  with  St.  Thomas  and  St.  John  ;  and  a  St. 
Francis.  Del  Sarto  died  while  engaged  upon  the 
last  picture.  There  is  a  fine  Judith  by  Allori;  a 
copy,  or  rather  a  duplicate  of  the  one  in  the  Pitti 
Gallery.  The  church  is  filled  with  statuary  and 
costly  shrines;  and  the  ornaments  of  the  architecture 
are  rich  and  varied.  We  were  quite  unprepared  for 
the  closing  of  the  cathedral  at  the  early  hour  of 
noon,  and  were,  in  consequence,  deprived  of  the 


WAYSIDE    SKETCHES.  235 

pleasure  of  dwelling  with  more  minuteness  upon 
some  remarkably  fine  modern  pictures;  among 
which  was  one  especially  interesting,  the  Reception 
of  Coeur  de  Lion  at  Pisa,  during  the  Crusades. 

Being  excluded  from  the  cathedral,  we  took  refuge 
in  the  Baptistery ;  a  circular  building  of  Byzantine 
architecture,  richly  ornamented. 

It  contains,  in  the  centre,  an  immense  Greek  font, 
surrounded  by  exquisite  carvings  in  sixteen  slabs, 
brought  from  Constantinople ;  each  slab  wrought  in 
some  curious  device,  different  from  its  fellows. 

The  great  curiosity  of  the  place  is  the  pulpit.  It 
is  a  marvel  of  alto  relievo ;  both  the  preaching  and 
the  reading  desks  are  wrought  in  carvings  of  great 
delicacy,  representing  scenes  in  the  life  of  the 
Saviour.  One  of  the  desks  is  in  the  form  of  a  book 
supported  by  an  eagle.  The  great  rotunda  gives  a 
fine  echo,  which  was  put  to  the  test  by  an  attendant 
with  a  musical  voice,  who  sang  low  chords,  and  they 
were  returned  with  great  precision  and  beauty. 

The  Campo  Santo  is  a  kind  of  spacious  cloister 
around  a  green  court,  containing  monuments,  sarco 
phagi  and  statues.  The  walls  are  frescoed  with 
numberless  pictures,  chiefly  from  sacred  subjects. 
The  most  remarkable  sarcophagus  is  that  of  the 
Countess  Beatrice ;  there  is  another  of  the  Emperor 
Hadrian;  and  many  curious  monuments  of  the 
ancients,  exhumed  in  the  vicinity  of  Pisa,  are  here 
preserved.  The  green  plot  in  the  centre  contains 
earth  nine  feet  in  depth,  brought  from  the  hill  of 


236  WAYSIDE     SKETCHES. 

Calvary,  in  fifty-three  ship  loads,  during  the  Crusades. 
Altogether,  Pisa  is  a  place  of  unusual  interest; 
although  as  a  city,  it  wears  an  air  of  desolation.  In 
the  broad  day  we  scarcely  encountered  a  person  in 
the  streets,  and  the  wide  quay  along  the  Arno  was 
as  silent  as  a  Sabbath  day. 

From  Pisa  we  proceeded  to  Leghorn,  which  we 
did  not  attempt  to  explore  ;  and  after  the  most  vex 
atious  experience  of  extortion  and  bullying,  we 
found  ourselves  on  board  the  little  Italian  steamer, 
bound  to  Civita  Yecchia.  The  steamers  do  not  come 
to  the  wharf,  but  lie  along  the  mole  at  a  considerable 
distance  from  the  shore.  We  were  on  board  an  hour 
before  the  time  of  sailing,  and  it  was  amusing  to 
watch  the  embarkations,  and  see  the  various  ways  in 
which  the  unlucky  passenger,  who  hugged  himself 
with  the  belief  that  he  had  made  a  secure  bargain, 
was  cheated  or  abused.  We  paid  ten  francs  from  the 
station  to  the  steamer,  where  the  officer  comforted  us 
with  the  assurance  that  it  was  seven  francs  too  much. 

However,  we  were  on  board,  and  the  time  for  the 
departure  came.  It  blew  a  stiff  breeze,  and  the  little 
buoyant  boat  rode  the  tossing  waters  like  a  bird,  the 
only  difficulty  was  that  its  occupants  were  not  con 
stituted  like  waterfowl.  One  after  another  the  visages 
grew  pensive,  then  serious ;  some  quietly  disappeared, 
others  silently  devoted  themselves  to  a  contemplation 
of  the  depths  of  the  sea. 

For  my  own  part,  I  summoned  all  my  intellectual 
resources  to  keep  down  the  rebellious  spirit  within: 


WAYSIDE     SKETCHES.  237 

but  there  came  a  time  when  resistance  ceased  to  be  a 
virtue,  and  I  gave  in  —  unconditional  surrender. 
The  gale  freshened,  and  the  waves  came  sweeping 
over  the  deck ;  but  nobody  seemed  to  mind  it,  so 
long  as  he  had  energy  to  keep  upright.  At  length 
the  deck  was  deserted  by  all  except  Mrs.  R,  myself, 
and  a  pale  young  priest,  who  sat  helplessly  upon  the 
planks,  and  smiled  a  ghastly  sympathy  at  us  in  his 
better  intervals.  It  grew  wetter  and  wetter ;  there 
seemed  no  possibility  of  weathering  the  night  on 
deck  ;  we  heard  the  sailors  prognosticating  a  stronger 
blow,  and  it  soon  became  apparent  that  we  must  be 
take  ourselves  to  the  confined  depths  below.  But 
how  to  get  there  was  a  question. 

The  boat  pitched  like  a  see-saw,  with  a  lateral  roll 
superadded,  which  precluded  the  possibility  of  keep 
ing  our  feet.  The  difficulty  was  solved  by  two 
sailors  taking  us  each  in  their  arms,  and,  watching 
their  opportunity,  they  staggered  with  us  across  the 
deck  to  the  gangway.  Here  dispossessing  a  score  of 
sick  outsiders,  they  lifted  us  down  to  the  cabin. 
There  the  homme  de  chambre  did  his  best  to  help  us, 
but  we  were  past  help.  My  friend  betook  herself  to 
her  berth,  and  bore  it  bravely,  but  I  lay  upon  the 
floor  in  a  state  of  helpless  abandon  for  which  I  have 
no  name ;  not  even  the  fleas  moved  me  to  resistance, 
nor  could  I  bestow  word  upon  friend  or  foe. 

It  was  well  that  nobody  was  hungry,  for  the 
kitchen  was  upset  in  the  beginning  of  the  blow.  My 
prevailing  thought  during  the  night  was  of  our  pro- 


238  WAYSIDE     SKETCHES. 

jected  return  from  Naples  to  Marseilles  by  sea,  and 
my  heart  sank  and  my  stomach  rose  inversely.  One 
consolation  only  mingled  with  it  all  —  it  could  not 
last  forever,  and  with  the  morning  sun  we  dropped 
anchor  at  Civita  Vecchia, 

One  would  suppose  that  the  next  thing  would  be 
to  land,  but  things  are  not  done  in  that  cursory  way 
in  the  dominions  of  His  Holiness.  Eome  has  been 
threatened  by  sea  before,  and  one  never  knows  what 
may  happen  again. 

The  captain  went  on  shore  with  the  passports 
which  we  had  given  up  at  Leghorn,  and  after  an 
absence  of  an  hour  and  a  half,  he  returned,  accom 
panied  by  two  or  three  small  boats. 

A  man  presently  made  his  appearance  on  deck, 
with  two  bits  of  paper  in  his  hand,  from  which  he 
read  the  names  of  our  own  party.  This  turned  out 
to  be  a  permission  to  land,  and  we  gladly  proceeded 
to  take  our  places  in  a  boat,  and  rowed  away. 

It  seemed  ludicrous  to  leave  the  small  number  of 
passengers,  innocent  looking  voyagers,  ruefully  await 
ing  the  moment  when  the  safety  of  the  state  should 
permit  them  to  follow  us.  Our  protector  professed 
to  be  a  commissioner  under  the  especial  auspices  of 
the  American  Consul ;  and,  having  seen  our  pass 
ports,  he  had  hastened  to  secure  for  us  the  earliest 
permit  Our  citizenship  stood  us,  for  once,  in  good 
stead,  for,  in  the  examination  of  the  luggage,  the 
word  American  acted  like  magic,  to  close  lock  and 
strap  upon  a  very  respectful  research. 


WAYSIDE     SKETCHES.  239 

We  were  duly  accredited  and  seated  in  the  railway 
carriage  before  the  next  detachment  from  the  steamer 
made  its  appearance.  As  for  those  of  the  passen 
gers  forced  by  this  delay  to  wait  for  the  next  train, 
one  could  easily  imagine  their  disgust  after  such  a 
night. 

The  train  proceeded  to  Eome,  a  distance  of  forty- 
five  miles,  in  three  hours  and  a  half,  stopping  at  fre 
quent  intervals,  sometimes  in  the  midst  of  the  deso 
late  Campagna,  without  any  apparent  reason,  perhaps 
to  prepare  the  Pope,  by  degrees,  for  our  approach. 
At  last  the  long,  low  line  of  city,  surmounted  by  dome 
and  tower,  rose  to  view  —  Koine,  the  city  of  the 
Caesars  —  I  cannot  yet  comprehend  it. 

We  are  established  in  the  Bocca  di  Leone,  near  the 
Pincian  Hill,  and  the  associations  of  ages  come 
surging  over  the  petty  present,  and  almost  appal  the 
thoughts.  However,  even  in  Rome  one  must  rest, 
and  we  went  to  bed  without  bestowing  many  thoughts 
upon  the  Caesars. 


240  WAYSIDE     SKETCHES. 


CHAPTER   XII. 

ITALY. 

Rome  —  St.   Peter's  —  Vatican  —  Capitol  —  Forum  —  Coliseum   —  Naples  — 
Herculaneum  —  Pompeii  —  Museum  —  Cbapels  —  Pausilippo. 

OCT.  4.  We  strolled  down  to  the  ''yellow  Tiber," 
crossed  the  classic  river  in  a  ferry  boat,  certainly  not 
less  rude  than  that  which  carried  Caesar,  followed  a 
long  dusty  footpath,  as  lonely  and  uninteresting  as 
any  by-way  in  New  England,  and  passed  under  an 
arched  and  sentinelled  gateway,  into  a  silent  street, 
which  led  to  the  great  colonnade  in  front  of  St. 
Peter's. 

This  wonderful  edifice,  like  the  mighty  works  of 
Nature,  needs  time  to  comprehend  its  vastness.  It 
covers  two  hundred  and  forty  thousand  square  feet, 
and  is  four  hundred  and  forty-eight  feet  high.  I 
think,  however,  that  it  is  impossible,  by  statistics,  to 
gain  mny  conception  of  St.  Peter's. 

The  disposition  of  the  noble  porticoes  which  lead 
to  it,  the  immense  fa§ade  which  effectually  conceals 
the  height  of  the  great  dome,  the  wide  rectangular 
columns,  the  breaking  of  the  outline  between  the 
roof  and  the  columns,  and  the  colossal  size  of  figure, 
both  in  painting  and  sculpture,  all  tend  most  artfully 
to  diminish  the  proportions  of  the  mighty  structure, 


WAYSIDE     SKETCHES.  241 

and  it  requires  a  continual  effort  to  remember  thi;t  it 
is  the  greatest  of  all  Cathedrals.  Perhaps  one  of  the 
best  proofs  of  its  immense  extent  is  that  you  are  con 
tinually  forgetting  it,  and  stray  about  the  aisles  and 
chapels  to  gaze  upon  the  works  of  art  within  them, 
as  if  you  were  under  the  open  air  of  Heaven. 

I  do  not  think  there  is  any  point  of  vision  in  the 
interior  from  which  we  may  gain  an  adequate  idea  of 
its  size  as  a  unity,  as  can  be  done  in  the  cathedrals  of 
Northern  Europe. 

We  traversed  the  wide  space  in  front  of  the  church, 
and  found  that,  also,  altogether  deceptive  to  the  eye. 
In  the  middle  stands  the  great  obelisk  of  the  Vatican ; 
one  of  those  brought  from  Heliopolis,  and  erected 
upon  its  present  pedestal  in  the  sixteenth  century. 

I  do  not  propose  to  attempt  any  description  of  St. 
Peter's ;  or  to  do  more  than  glance  at  a  few  of  the 
most  striking  features  of  its  interest.  If  one  should 
write  a  volume,  there  would  still  be  something  left ; 
and,  so  far  as  impressions  go,  I  know,  by  experience, 
how  impossible  it  is  to  convey  them  to  others,  upon 
a  subject  like  this. 

We  found  High  Mass  in  progress  of  celebration, 
with  all  the  mummery  of  priest  and  host,  procession 
and  torches.  Several  masses  were  said  in  different 
parts  of  the  church,  while  we  remained ;  and  a  score 
might  go  on  at  once  without  interference.  The  dis 
tant  chants  strive  against  the  overwhelming  space  — 
and  die. 

In  the  first  chapel  to  the  right  of  the  entrance,  is  a 


242  WAYSIDE     SKETCHES. 

farned  Pieta,  by  Michael  Angelo,  inscribed  with  his 
own  name.  Sculptures  abound  every  where,  chiefly 
monumental ;  some  very  fine,  by  Canova.  I  believe 
his  tomb  of  Clement  the  Thirteenth  is  considered  to 
be,  not  only  the  finest  sculpture  of  St.  Peter's,  but 
the  most  distinguished  of  his  own  productions.  The 
Pope  is  a  majestic  figure,  in  the  attitude  of  prayer, 
supported  by  two  figures  of  Death  and  Eeligion. 
Two  enormous  couchant  lions  lie  at  the  base ;  one  of 
which,  represented  sleeping,  is  a  splendid  work.  A 
bronze  statue  of  St.  Peter  sits  in  the  nave,  not  far 
from  the  High  Altar,  and  thither  came  the  devout,  in 
almost  continuous  procession,  to  kiss  his  toe,  which 
is  suffering  materially  from  the  devotions  of  ages. 

Before  the  High  Altar,  a  circular  marble  balustrade 
surrounds  a  sunken  space,  to  which  descends  a  double 
flight  of  marble  steps ;  and  there,  immediately  under 
the  dome,  kneels  a  figure  of  Pius  the  Sixth,  before 
the  crypt  which  is  supposed  to  contain  the  relics  of 
St  Peter.  A  hundred  lamps  shine,  night  and  day, 
around  this  sacred  enclosure ;  a  transfer  of  the  Vestal 
fire  well  calculated  to  win  favor  in  Eoman  eyes ;  and 
above  the  most  consecrated  altar  hangs  an  elaborate 
canopy,  or  baldacchino.  Higher  up,  the  eye  seeks 
the  majestic  dome,  which  almost  seems  the  vault  of 
heaven  brought  clown  to  earthly  eyes;  and  in  its 
apex  is  a  representation  which  chills  a  Protestant 
heart;  the  Jehovah  himself  in  visible  form.  In  the 
tribune  hangs  an  enormous  chair,  said  to  enclose  the 
identical  chair  in  which  the  Apostle  was  crowned. 


WAYSIDE     SKETCHES.  243 

The  mosaics  of  St.  Peter's  are  far  finer  than  the 
sculptures  Three  especially  seemed  to  me  to  surpass 
all  the  others ;  the  copies  of  Kaphael's  Transfigura 
tion;  Domeriichino's  Sacrament  of  St.  Jerome,  and 
Guide's  Crucifixion  of  St.  Peter.  The  Incredulity 
of  St.  Thomas,  by  Cammuccini,  is  also  very  fine. 

We  returned  by  the  bridge  of  Hadrian,  at  the 
castle  of  St.  Angelo ;  a  fort,  which  if  all  tales  be 
true,  could  speak  volumes  as  to  the  craft  and  cruelty 
of  the  papal  system  —  even  at  the  present  enlight 
ened  day.  How  enlightened  this  may  be,  one  may 
perhaps  judge  from  a  tract  put  forth  during  this 
very  year  under  the  authority  and  signature  of  the 
Pope  himself.  It  purports  to  have  in  view  the  com 
forting  and  strengthening  of  the  faithful  in  these 
times  so  disastrous  to  the  true  church,  by  refreshing 
their  memory  with  a  history  of  a  miraculous  picture 
of  our  Lord,  recently  exhibited  to  the  public.  This 
portrait  is  averred  to  have  been  sketched  by  St.  Luke, 
I  think  the  night  previous  to  the  Crucifixion.  In  the 
morning  the  picture  was  found  miraculously  com 
pleted.  It  was  preserved  with  great  care  among  the 
most  sacred  possessions  of  the  eastern  church,  until 
the  city  in  which  it  was  deposited  (I  do  not  remem 
ber  where  — possibly  Damascus)  was  in  danger  of 
pillage.  The  brethren,  in  their  anxiety  lest  the  pre 
cious  picture  should  suffer  violence,  sought  divine 
direction  with  many  prayers  and  tears;  and  being 
supernaturally  advised,  they  went  down  to  the  sea 
and  committed  it  to  the  waves.  The  picture  set  forth 


244  WAYSIDE     SKETCHES. 

upright,  upon  its  seaward  journey,  and  the  brethren 
returned  to  pray  for  its  safety.  Meanwhile  the  Pope 
having  been  warned  in  a  dream,  repaired,  with  the 
college  of  cardinals,  to  the  mouth  of  the  Tiber,  there 
to  await  the  developement  of  the  mysterious  com 
mand;  when  they  saw  this  picture  approaching, 
which  leaped,  dry  and  unharmed,  into  the  arms  of 
his  Holiness,  and  was  carried  in  great  joy  to  Eome; 
having  made  the  passage  of  the  Levant,  rounded  the 
peninsula,  and  sailed  up  the  Sicilian  coast,  if  I  rightly 
remember,  in  about  thirteen  hours. 

The  degree  of  enlightenment,  in  which  the  highest 
authority  of  the  church  can  gravely  put  fortli  such 
a  statement  to  the  people  of  the  nineteenth  century, 
scarcely  admits  a  comment. 

Oct.  5.  To-day  have  visited  in  the  Vatican,  the 
Loggie,  the  Sistine  chapel,  the  chapel  of  St.  Paul, 
and  the  Museum ;  re- visited  St.  Peter's,  went  to  the 
Capitol,  the  Forum,  and  the  Coliseum. 

I  can  say  little  of  the  Vatican,  that  one  palace  of 
the  world.  It  is  difficult  to  comprehend  a  structure 
containing  four  thousand  four  hundred  and  twenty- 
two  rooms,  and  I  bring  away  an  impression  of 
magnificent  halls,  and  porticoes  with  splendid  fres. 
coes ;  grand  staircases ;  and  curious  and  precious 
works  of  art.  Among  the  latter  are  some  elegant 
vases  of  Egyptian  alabaster  and  green  basalt, 

The  Sistine  Chapel  was  one  of  those  overwhelming 
disappointments  which  I  am  willing,  in  all  humility, 
to  credit  solely  to  my  own  lack  of  appreciation,  since 


WAYSIDE  SKETCHES.  245 

the  world  of  art  cannot  be  mistaken  as  to  its  excel 
lence.  I  know  it  is  a  terrible  heresy,  but  the  famous 
dicture  of  the  Last  Judgment  seemed  not  only  dis 
agreeable,  but  ludicrous.  Here,  again,  is  the  embodi 
ment  of  the  Divine  Father,  and  the  conception  of  the 
scenes  of  the  Judgment  are  material,  puerile,  and,  in 
some  respects,  heathen ;  Charon  figuring  anew  in 
this  sort  of  baptized  mythology. 

Of  the  execution,  I  have  of  course  no  right  to  speak. 
The  walls  are  covered  with  smoke-stained  subjects 
from  the  life  of  Moses  on  one  side,  and  of  Christ  on 
the  other.  The  ceiling  is  crowded  with  pictures  of 
Scripture  history  painted  in  small  compartments,  and 
the  figure  of  Eve  is  faultless,  even  to  ignorant  eyes. 

We  left  the  Vatican  to  return  again  and  again, 
and  went  to  St.  Peter's,  which  immediately  adjoins  it ; 
and,  leaving  the  wonders  to  be  seen  in  it  for  another 
time,  we  tried  to  see  it ;  to  comprehend  its  vastness, 
to  watch  the  perspective  of  retreating  figures,  to  pace 
its  length  and  breadth,  and  to  grow  accustomed  to 
the  height,  ever  and  anon  finding  our  attention 
rivetted  by  some  charm  of  art,  unseen  before,  and 
resting  with  increased  admiration  upon  the  St.  Jerome 
'  and  the  Transfiguration. 

Then  we  went  down  the  Piazza  again,  and  made 
our  way  through  the  city  to  the  Capitoline  Hill,  and 
climbed  the  steps  to  that  august  presence,  the  Roman 
Capitol.  Why  is  it  that  the  shrines  at  which  we  have 
done  mental  reverence  all  our  days,  should  seem 
such  things  of  course,  when  we  resolve  them  into  the 


2-iB  WAYSIDE    SKETCHES. 

actuality  of  personal  experience?  The  staircase  to 
tjie  Capitol  seemed  very  like  any  other  flight  of 
steps,  even  with  Castor  and  Pollux  at  the  top ;  and 
the  magnificent  equestrian  statue  of  Marcus  Aurelius 
which  confronts  them,  compelled  a  long  pause  of  ad 
miration,  even  there.  It  is  the  most  splendid  work 
of  bronze  I  ever  saw,  and  worthy  of  its  noble 
model. 

We  found  the  picture  gallery  closed  for  repairs, 
but  had  ample  food  for  admiration  in  the  statuary. 
The  bronze  Wolf  of  the  Capitol  was  a  matter  of 
legitimate  interest.  We  found  here  the  beautiful 
doves  of  Pliny,  which  are  so  often  reproduced  in 
brooches.  The  boy  extracting  a  thorn  from  his  foot 
is  one  of  the  most  graceful  of  sculptured  works  ;  the 
engraving  is  one  of  my  old  admirations.  The  Ama 
zon,  the  Antinous,  the  Cupid,  and  the  Fawn  of 
Praxitiles  need  no  description  of  their  faultless  pro 
portions.  Indeed,  in  touching  upon  world-renowned 
art,  any  thing  beyond  the  names  seems  to  belittle 
their  dignity. 

Pre-eminent  in  the  Capitol,  is  the  Dying  Gladiator. 
I  have  no  words  to  describe  the  wonderful  power  of 
the  round,  compact,  muscular  frame ;  and  the  still 
more  wonderful  effect  of  the  strong  self  control  of 
mortal  agony  fading  into  dim  unconsciousness,  as 
u  the  drooped  head  sinks  gradually  low  "  in  death. 
It  is  the  only  ancient  sculpture  that  I  have  seen, 
where  the  perfection  in  physical  developement  is 
combined  with  the  higherpower  of  perfect  expression. 


WAYSIDE     SKETCHES.  247 

From  the  Capitol,  we  descended  to  the  Forum,  to 
me  the  most  profoundly  interesting  spot  of  this 
strange  city.  Who  does  not  feel  that  he  knows  the 
Roman  Forum  ?  Yet  here,  amid  broken  shaft  and 
crumbling  arch,  massive  foundation  and  defaced  cap 
ital,  each  one  spells  out,  with  difficulty,  his  own 
theory  of  the  extent  and  character  and  position  of 
the  spot  which  once  sent  forth  the  silver  streams 
of  eloquence,  or  hurled  the  angry  thunders  of  defi 
ance  to  the  echoes  of  the  world.  And  above  the 
mass  of  nameless  ruins,  still  stands  a  fragment  of  the 
portico ;  the  silent  symbol,  eloquent  above  all  utter 
ance,  of  magnificence  and  oblivion.  No  tangled 
wilderness  ever  seemed  to  me  so  desolate  as  the 
Roman  Forum. 

Then,  by  the  Sacred  Way,  along  which  the  impe 
rial  city  was  wont  to  pour  its  living  flood,  we  wended 
our  almost  solitary  way,  beneath  the  Arch  of  Titus, 
to  the  Coliseum. 

This  immense  structure  has  been  stripped  of  its 
marble  exterior  to  build  the  palaces  of  later  Rome; 
but  the  inner  construction  still  remains,  perfect  in 
extent,  and,  in  some  places,  in  its  height.  It  is 
an  immense  oval,  surrounded  by  a  triple  row 
of  arched  colonnades,  broad  and  massive  still ;  from 
which  open  in  frequent  transverse  arch,  the  stair 
cases  leading  to  the  stalls  which  overlooked  the 
arena.  The  amphitheatre  rises,  story  above  story, 
to  the  height  of  more  than  one  hundred  and  fifty 
feet,  its  broad  colonnades  resembling  the  streets  of 


248  W  A  Y  S I D  E     SKETCHES. 

a  city.  Below  the  present  level  sward  lie  the  dens  in 
which  the  wild  beasts  were  confined  ;  and  one  could 
fancy  the  scenes  of  almost  forgotten  ages  again  pres 
ent  to  the  view.  Here  gathered  the  imperial  purple 
and  the  plebeian  serge,  the  haughty  patron  and  the 
cringing  client,  to  quench  the  common  thirst  of  cru 
elty.  All  watched  with  eager,  cruel  eyes,  the  mortal 
combat  of  the  gladiators ;  those  barbarians  whose 
animal  ferocity  was  stimulated  to  the  utmost  by  the 
applause  of  the  equally  ferocious  crowd ;  or  perhaps 
deepened  by  the  long  hunger  for  freedom. 

Into  that  very  arena  have  been  thrown  delicate 
women,  to  be  gored  out  of  the  shape  of  humanity ; 
and  there  have  stood  Christian  men,  by  thousands,  to 
struggle  to  the  last  mortal  extremity  with  savage 
beasts,  until  they  were  torn  limb  from  limb  ;  and  the 
roar  of  the  lion  was  mingled  with  the  roar  of  the 
eighty  thousand  incarnate  fiends  that  thronged  the 
mighty  theatre. 

The  blood  of  the  slaughtered  saints,  which  cries 
from  that  fearful  soil  to  heaven,  has  not  been  una 
venged.  The  sentence  of  retribution  is  written  upon 
fallen  shaft  and  shattered  fane ;  upon  buried  palace 
and  forgotten  temple;  the 'city  sitteth  solitary  which 
was  full  of  inhabitants ;  and  the  once  fruitful  Cam- 
pagna  lifts  its  blasted  face  to  the  summer  sky, 
scorched  by  the  fiery  breath  of  desolation.  Eome  is 
to  me  oppressively  sad.  It  seems  impossible  to  iden 
tify  the  imperial  city,  the  mistress  of  the  world,  the 
home  of  the  ancients,  whose  names  make  the  page  of 


WAYSIDE     SKETCHES.  249 

histor}'  splendid,  with  the  ruined  dust,  upon  which 
have  arisen  the  temples  of  a  pagan  Christianity,  the 
galleries  of  almost  divine  art,  the  palaces  of  insig 
nificant  despotism,  and  the  substratum  of  squalid 
poverty  and  lazy  mendicity. 

Oct.  9.  If  we  were  disposed  to  erect  a  superstruc 
ture  of  vanity  upon  slight  foundations, we  might  fancy 
ourselves  people  of  mark,  inasmuch  as  to  make  an 
innocent  journey  to  Naples  it  was  necessary  to  obtain 
permission  of  the  paternal  government  of  Eome. 
Then,  not  content  with  having  satisfied  itself  that  we 
had  brought  nothing  objectionable  into  the  kingdom, 
it  must  needs  be  assured  that  we  carried  nothing  out ; 
so  we  were  duly  examined  and  vised  before  leaving 
the  Father's  dominions.  Then,  of  course,  United 
Italy  must  protect  herself  from  our  inroads,  so  the 
same  ceremony  was  repeated  across  the  frontier,  a 
few  yards  further  on.  I  do  not  know  whether  the 
effect  is  more  ludicrous  or  wearisome,  to  be  stopped, 
on  a  prosperous  journey,  at  some  little  wayside  shed, 
and  watch  the  process  of  discharging  the  vans  of  all 
the  travellers'  gear,  without  even  the  satisfaction  of 
seeing  the  delay  justified  by  a  thorough  search. 

At  the  frontier  between  Eome  and  Naples,  there 
was  the  usual  amount  of  crowd  and  begging ;  one 
bright  little  rascal  of  ten  was  actually  so  accomplished 
as  to  beg  in  three  languages. 

The  ragged,  dirty   countrymen   gathered   closely 
about,  wearing  a  dress  which  is  so  picturesque  in 
painting,  and  reminds  one  of  banditti. 
17 


250  WAYSIDE    SKETCHES. 

The  substitute  for  shoes  is  primitive.  A  round 
piece  of  hide  is  wrapped  around  the  foot,  and  pierced 
upon  the  edge  with  slits,  through  which  a  long  strap 
is  -laced,  and  made  fast  by  numerous  turns  about  the 
leg.  The  women  adopt  the  still  more  primitive 
fashion  of  going  bare-footed;  or  wear  the  common 
slipper  without  heels,  usually  without  stockings. 

A  large  stone  station-house  was  in  progress  of  erec 
tion,  and  women  and  very  young  girls  carried  the 
heavy  hewn  stone  arid  the  tubs  of  mortar  upon  their 
heads,  up  the  steep  ladders,  to  the  masons.  We 
always  see  Italian  peasants  laden  with  baskets  of 
grapes  in  the  world  of  art;  but  the  reality  is  of 
heavier  calibre  than  grapes. 

We  were  not  yet  done  with  passports.  We  must 
obtain  permission  at  Naples  to  return ;  which  per 
mission  must  be  again  scrutinized  on  the  way ;  and 
finally,  our  credentials  were  delivered  into  the  cus 
tody  of  the  police  on  our  arrival  at  Rome,  to  be 
reclaimed  by  a  fresh  application  at  the  bureau  on  the 
following  day. 

The  whole  operation  would  seem  ludicrous,  if  it 
were  not  both  annoying  and  expensive ;  but  so  far 
as  we  are  individually  concerned,  the  Papa  has  reit 
erated  reason  to  feel  perfectly  at  ease. 

The  route  to  Naples  lies  through  a  country,  in 
some  parts  very  beautiful.  The  Apennines  are 
bare  and  barren,  but  it  is  surprising  to  see  the  luxu 
riance  with  which  the  vine  flourishes  upon  the  low 
hills,  whose  only  soil  seems  to  be  the  loose  ashen 


WAYSIDE     SKETCHES.  251 

debris  of  volcanoes.  The  villages  are  all  perched  on 
the  summits  of  the  peaked  hills  : 

"  Like  eagles'  nest,  hang  on  the  crest 
Of  purple  Apennine," 

perhaps  as  a  necessity  of  safety ;  perhaps  because 
the  air  is  healthier  than  in  the  plains.  Still,  it  strikes 
one  that  there  is  a  vast  expenditure  of  climbing  in 
Italy,  to  very  little  purpose. 

It  is  very  amusing  to  become  suddenly  aware  of 
one's  own  importance  by  the  operation  of  flying 
through  an  Italian  village.  It  requires  about  five 
minutes,  but,  for  that  display,  the  horses  are  put  to 
their  mettle,  and  the  whip,  unlike  any  other  instru 
ment  which  bears  the  name,  is  tortured  into  convolu 
tions  that  produce  such  cracks  as  are  surely  unknown 
to  any  other  part  of  the  civilized  world.  The  speed 
and  the  noise  together  are  something  half  alarming, 
half  ridiculous,  but  produce  an  edifying  effect  upon 
the  beholders. 

One  point  of  remark  upon  the  way  to  Naples  is  a 
convent  called  Monte  Casino,  crowning  the  summit 
of  a  high  hill,  the  first  convent  established  in  Italy, 
and  said  to  be  very  rich  in  wealth  and  curious  works 
of  art. 

I  was  unprepared  to  find  Naples  such  a  beautiful 
city,  although  why  a  city  which  has  been  the  abode 
of  a  royal  court  for  so  many  years,  should  not  be 
beautiful,  did  not  occur  to  me.  It  encircles  the  lovely 
bay  in  a  sweeping  crescent  of  great  extent  Directly 


252  WAYSIDE     SKETCHES.  ( 

before  the  city,  and  breaking  the  sea  outline,  lie  the 
picturesque  islands  of  Ischia  and  Capri ;  and  in  the 
back  ground  rises  the  double  peak  of  Vesuvius ;  as 
peaceful  and  innocent-looking  a  mountain  as  if  it 
were  not  wont  to  overwhelm  man  and  his  works  in 
deadly  ruin. 

Naples  would  seem  to  one  traversing  the  streets,  to 
be  the  one  point  of  the  earth  where  the  productions 
of  all  climates  and  all  soils  gather  to  a  common  centre 
of  abundance.  Fruits,  flowers  and  vegetables  are 
heaped  in  combinations  that  cannot  choose  but  be 
picturesque.  Pomona  herself  could  scarcely  typify 
the  luxuriant  blessings  of  the  country.  What  is 
peculiar  here  is,  that  the  productions  of  the  temperate 
zone  do  not  disappear,  as  the  earth  warms  into  tropical 
growth.  Apples  and  oranges,  pears  and  pome 
granates,  peaches  and  figs,  grapes  and  nuts,  are  piled 
side  by  side,  while  the  lean,  abused  donkeys  are 
laden  with  pyramids  of  panniers,  bursting  with  vege 
tables,  green,  gold  and  scarlet ;  spring,  summer  and 
autumn,  all  blended  in  one. 

We  took  the  most  respectable  and  vigorous  of 
commissioners,  and  drove  out,  through  Portici  and 
Besina,  to  the  strange  city,  once  more  open  to  the 
sunlight  after  seventeen  hundred  years  of  oblivion. 
We  walked  the  deserted  streets,  whose  pavements 
wear  the  mark  of  the  wheels  of  two  thousand  years 
ago ;  we  stood  within  the  still  gaily  decorated  walls, 
and  explored  the  penetralia,  and  trod  the  mosaic 
floors  of  dwellings  instinct  with  life  and  luxury  when 


WAYSIDE     SKETCHES.  263 

the  Saviour  lived  in  Galilee ;  and  yet,  before  even  all 
his  own  apostles  had  received  the  crown  of  martyr 
dom,  these  busy  streets,  and  gorgeous  temples,  and 
human  abodes  were  passing  into  oblivion  beneath 
the  ashen  waves  of  that  flood  which  came  "  when 
they  knew  not,"  and  swept  them  all  away.  Nearly 
all  the  exhumed  tokens  of  life  have  been  removed, 
and  are  carefully  preserved  in  the  Museum  at 
Naples  ;  but  street  and  house,  theatre,  temple,  forum, 
and  fountain  are  still  as  distinctly  marked  as  in  any 
city  in  the  world,  and  one  scarcely  knows  which 
excites  the  most  wonder,  the  completeness  of  the 
destruction  or  the  magnitude  of  the  labor  of  resto 
ration. 

I  remember  one  beautiful  grotto,  around  a  fountain 
in  the  court  of  a  dwelling,  which  is  composed  of 
shells  wrought  into  pictures  and  colored  scrolls,  the 
fine  shell-work  as  minutely  perfect  as  if  it  had  been 
finished  yesterday. 

The  mosaic  floors  of  the  vestibules  still  welcome 
us  with  "salve,"  or  warn  us  with  "cave  canem." 
The  dining  rooms  still  wear  their  bright  frescoes  of 
game,  and  fruit,  and  flowers,  and  the  leaden  pipes  are 
ready  to  spout  water  into  the  fountains  and  piscinia. 
The  ranges  are  ready  for  fire,  and  wine  is  still 
stored  in  the  cellars. 

Upon  the  wall  of  one .  of  the  cellars  is  distinctly 
impressed  the  outline  of  a  human  figure,  fled  to  this 
vain  refuge,  and  even  here  sought  out  by  the  de 
stroying  element. 


254:  WAYSIDE     SKETCHES. 

The  Amphitheatre  is  very  perfect,  showing  dis 
tinctly  the  gradations  of  the  several  tiers  of  seats,  and 
the  wall  is  entire  to  the  top.  It  is  very  large,  and  of  a 
slightly  oval  form. 

There  remain  yet  miles  of  excavation  to  be  made, 
even  after  the  labor  of  a  hundred  years.  Still  it  is 
easy  to  comprehend  the  possibility  of  the  work  being 
successfully  conducted  at  Pompeii,  when  the  super 
incumbent  mass  consists  of  a  loose  soil  of  ashes  and 
earth ;  we  tried  the  hoe  and  pick  ourselves,  and 
found  it  not  difficult ;  and  with  care  the  fine  works  of 
art  distributed  throughout  the  buried  city  may  be 
well  recovered.  But  it  is  a  far  different  thing  to  go 
down  into  the  solemn  depths  of  Herculaneum. 
There  one  threads  lofty  black  galleries,  hewn  out  of 
the  solid  lava,  firm  as  granite,  the  fiery  flood  having 
flowed  in  and  filled  every  corner  of  the  doomed  city. 
Yet  out  of  these  recesses  of  blank  darkness  have 
been  exhumed  statuary,  and  pictures,  and  orna 
ments,  public  buildings  have  been  identified  and  de 
fined,  even  the  books  of  the  day  have  been  rescued, 
and  while  the  outer  folds  are  burned  to  a  cinder,  the 
inner  convolutions  have  been  unrolled,  and  in  many 
of  them  the  Greek  characters  are  perfectly  legible  at 
this  day. 

The  most  thoughtless  heart  must  feel  appalled 
within  these  shades  of  death,  and  escape  to  the 
abodes  of  life  with  a  grateful  sense  of  relief. 

We  drove  home  through  the  environs  of  Naples, 
where  wine  was  streaming  from  the  presses,  and  frames 


WAYSIDE     SKETCHES.  255 

of  maccaroni  hung  drying  in  the  sun ;  the  bright  gay 
city  in  view  on  one  hand,  and  the  sunny  bay  stretch 
ing  away  into  the  western  distance  on  the  other. 
The  element  of  mendicity  seems  to  find  its  highest 
developement  here.  The  halt,  and  maimed,  and 
blind,  and  distorted,  throng  the  streets,  and  thrust  all 
that  is  painful  and  disgusting  in  humanity  under 
your  sight,  until,  amid  all  its  beauty,  the  heart  sickens 
at  the  thought  of  Naples. 

We  visited  the  Museum,  which  contains  the  won 
derful  treasures  reclaimed  from  the  depths  of  the 
buried  cities.  They  fill  many  rooms,  and  consist 
of  mosaics,  statuary,  frescoes,  household  implements 
and  ornaments ;  in  fine,  every  thing  that  belongs  to 
the  busy  life  of  a  great  city — turned  in  one  hour  to 
the  fixedness  of  the  grave.  Seventeen  hundred 
Papyri,  taken  from  the  excavations,  are  here  pre 
served,  and  some  of  the  skeletons  which  abound  in 
the  ruins.  The  great  amount  of  jewels  and  house 
hold  decorations  speaks  of  the  immense  wealth  of 
these  buried  cities,  yet,  strange  to  say,  no  amount  of 
coin  has  yet  been  discovered.  The  government  is 
expecting  that  discovery  when  the  banking  streets 
shall  be  uncovered.  But  it  would  not  be  strange  if 
the  Eomans  had  been  beforehand  with  them,  and  had 
made  sufficient  explorations,  after  the  catastrophe,  to 
possess  themselves  of  the  bulk  of  the  buried  treasure. 
The  number  of  the  destroyed  population  has  been 
variously  estimated  from  thirty  to  forty  thousand. 
What  seems  a  marvellous  feature  of  the  country 


256  WAYSIDE    SKETCHES. 

is,  that  beneath  the  very  mountain  from  whose  bowels 
flowed  these  desolating  rivers  of  fire,  men  still  build 
their  cities  and  cultivate  their  fields.  Within  the 
memory  of  the  children  of  twelve  years,  the  moun 
tain  has  disgorged  its  molten  flood,  and  streets  in 
Eesina  are  still  blocked  up  with  the  solid  mass ;  and 
there  they  still  live,  as  if  bound  by  some  magic  fas 
cination  to  tempt  their  fate.  However,  it  is  no  more 
astonishing  than  the  parallel  in  the  moral  world, 
which  meets  us  every  day  and  every  where. 

The  Picture  Gallery  of  the  Museum  is  a  very  fine 
one,  occupying  a  succession  of  spacious  halls,  and 
enriched  by  the  works  of  Guido,  Kaphael,  Corregio, 
Da  Yinci,  Titian,  Eubens,  Guercino,  Domenichino, 
Claude  Lorraine,  and  Salvator  Rosa. 

In  one  of  the  rooms  sat  a  little  fellow  of  ten  years, 
the  untaught  child  of  the  streets,  modelling  an  infant 
Saviour,  his  little  fingers  as  deftly  expert  upon  the 
work  of  his  brain  as  if  he  were  a  practised  sculptor. 
It  seems  that  the  arts  breathe  in  the  air,  and  spring 
from  the  soil  of  Italy. 

We  drove  about  the  city,  and  visited  various 
churches,  some  of  which  contain  remarkable  works. 
Finest  of  all  are  those  of  San  Severo,  a  private  chapel 
attached  to  the  palace  of  San  Severo.  In  a  subter 
ranean  chapel  is  a  work  superior  to  any  thing  I  have 
ever  seen,  a  veiled  Christ,  by  San  Martino.  It  is  not 
that  the  fine  outline  of  the  figure  has  been  preserved 
beneath  the  shrouding  veil,  but  that  the  veil  itself 
seems  transparent,  disclosing  perfectly  the  minute 


WAYSIDE     SKETCHES.  257 

features  of  expression,  not  only  of  the  face,  but  of 
the  sinews,  and  muscles,  and  veins  of  the  limbs.  It 
is  the  only  sculpture,  representing  the  Saviour,  which 
has  not  been  extremely  painful  to  me ;  this,  on  the 
contrary,  inspires  a  pleasing,  tender  awe.  In  the 
upper  chapel  is  another  veiled  statue,  that  of  a  lady 
of  the  San  Severo  house,  of  great  beauty,  both  of 
face  and  figure,  the  veil  transparent  as  in  the  former 
statue  —  both  these  sculptures  were  the  sole  works  of 
their  authors.  Opposite  the  lady  above  mentioned, 
stands  her  husband,  enveloped  in  a  net,  which  Cupid 
strives  in  vain  to  remove,  symbolizing  the  retirement 
into  which  he  fled  on  the  death  of  his  wife.  Behind 
the  altar  is  a  magnificent  alto  relievo  of  almost 
colossal  size,  representing  the  Descent  from  the  Cross. 
The  chapel  is  small,  but  more  remarkable  than  any 
thing  of  its  kind  in  sculpture,  especially  in  monu 
mental  designs.  We  visited  several  other  churches, 
handsome  in  architecture,  and  filled  with  decorations 
of  merit  and  interest.  Some  of  the  palaces  and 
public  buildings  are  very  handsome. 

We  drove  out  of  the  city  to  the  summit  of  a  hill, 
commanding  a  fine  panoramic  view  of  the  city  and 
its  beautiful  bay.  While  Mrs.  E.  and  myself  enjoyed 
the  view  from  the  terrace  of  a  pretty  villa,  the  gentle 
men  visited  the  convent  of  San  Lorenzo,  within  whose 
holy  precincts  no  profane  foot  of  womanhood  is  al 
lowed  to  tread.  It  is  remarkable  for  some  fine 
paintings. 

We  were  disappointed  of  a  visit  to  the  reputed 


258  WAYSIDE     SKETCHES. 

tomb  of  Virgil,  by  the  rain,  but  drove  through  the 
long  grotto  of  Pausilippo ;  an  excavation  in  the  solid 
rock  forty-five  hundred  feet  in  length,  by  which  the 
ancient  Eoman  port  of  Pozznoli  was  connected  with 
the  more  modern  city  of  Naples.  With  Rome,  it 
was  connected  by  the  Appian  way,  and  was  not  only 
the  southern  port  of  entry,  but  a  summer  watering 
place  for  the  Koman  nobility.  Here  the  great  Apos 
tle  landed  on  his  way  from  Syria  to  Rome. 

The  country  below  Naples  is  at  present  infested 
with  the  brigandage  of  which  we  have  heard  so 
much,  and  we  did  not  attempt  the  drive  along  the 
shore  to  Sorrento.  It  is  not  a  fortnight  since  a  num 
ber  of  carriages  were  stopped  on  the  return  from 
Castellemare,  robbed,  and  some  of  the  travellers 
carried  into  the  mountains  to  be  held  to  ransom. 
They  also  attacked  and  plundered  a  convent,  and 
maltreated  the  priests.  The  Neapolitans  are  exces 
sively  uneasy  under  the  new  government. 

Accustomed  to  Naples  as  the  seat  of  government, 
they  consider  their  interests  overlooked  at  Turin; 
while  deprived  of  the  advantages  of  trade  which 
result  from  the  presence  of  a  court,  they  still  feel 
the  evils  of  the  former  state  of  affairs,  together  with 
the  difficulties  of  getting  a  new  regime  into  working 
order  —  and  the  benefits  of  a  free  government  have 
to  be  waited  for.  So  that  all  the  discomforts  of  their 
transition  state  are  popularly  credited  to  the  new 
system. 

Our  clever  guide,  Mauro,  had  lived  in  England,  and 


WAYSIDE     SKETCHES.    ^  259 

comprehended  the  difficulties  and  the  blessings  of 
freedom  in  a  very  sober  way  for  one  of  his  mercu 
rial  countrymen.  I  find  that  my  idea  of  Italians 
has  been  divided  between  nobles  and  peasants,  and 
I  am  perpetually  calling  myself  to  account  for  being 
surprised  at  seeing  a  community  of  well-dressed, 
well-bred  gentlemen  and  ladies,  who  look  precisely 
as  if  they  had  just  walked  out  of  Broadway.  They 
are  a  very  interesting  people  to  me,  with  a  healthful, 
genial  naturalness,  a  ready  sympathy,  a'nd  a  quick 
perception,  very  unlike  what  I  had  looked  for  in  Italy. 
A  system  of  public  instruction  is  getting  slowly 
established,  and  the  thinking  part  of  the  people  per 
ceive  that  their  hopes  for  the  future  of  their  dis 
tracted  country,  must  rest  mainly  upon  this  agent  of 
improvement.  To  those  who  look  only  at  present 
results,  Austrian  Italy  is  the  best  governed  part  of 
the  peninsula. 

On  our  return  to  Borne,  we  remarked  a  large  body 
of  soldiery  at  several  stations,  where  the  railway 
nearly  approached  the  hills ;  and  were  told  that  they 
alone  secure  the  trains  from  the  successful  attacks  of 
marauding  banditti,  who  can  make  an  easy  escape 
thence  through  the  Apennines.  The  peasantry  and 
servants  of  the  country  wear  a  dress  refreshing  to 
eyes  accustomed  to  the  respectable  sameness  of  ordi 
nary  male  attire.  They  wear  a  green  velvet  postill 
ion's  jacket,  with  small  clothes,  and  long  white  stock 
ings  and  buckled  shoes ;  while  the  conical  hat  is  gay 
with  rosettes  and  plumes. 


260  s   WAYSIDE     SKETCHES. 

Among  the  minor  enjoyments  of  travel,  has  been 
an  untold  amount  of  education  on  the  subject  of  cur 
rency.  It  requires  a  little  time  to  become  accustomed 
to  pounds,  shillings  and  pence ;  by  the  time  this  is 
fairly  accomplished,  it  is  necessary  to  transfer  the 
calculations  to  the  very  different,  although  far  easier 
method  of  francs  and  centimes ;  and  we  learn,  besides, 
that  the  French  system  is  the .  best  basis  to  think 
upon,  while  on  the  continent.  It  is,  therefore,  with 
peculiar  pleasure,  that  we  discover  that  a  silver  gros- 
chen  is  equal  to  thirteen  centimes,  and  a  Prussian  thaler 
to  three  francs  and  seventy-eight  centimes ;  while  a 
silver  groschen  is  two-thirds  of  a  good  groschen. 

Of  course,  the  absolute  value  of  any  thing  to  be 
obtained  by  means  of  the  aforesaid  coins,  sinks  into 
insignificance,  when  compared  with  the  import 
ance  of  understanding  the  meaning  of  the  money 
itself.  But  the  groschen  must  needs  be  disposed  of 
before  entering  the  confines  of  Grermany ;  for  although 
it  is  financially  true  that  five  silver  groschen  are 
equal  to  seventeen  and  a  half  kreutzer;  and  seven 
teen  of  the  same  coin  with  two  and  one-eighth 
pfennings  make  a  German  florin;  yet,  practically, 
they  are  worth  nothing  at  all,  as  they  are  utterly 
refused. 

By  this  time,  the  complication  of  values  has  arrived 
at  a  point  which  puts  a  hasty,  and  at  the  same  time 
an  advantageous  bargain  out  of  the  question  ;  a  fact 
which  the  venders  of  merchandise  are  not  slow  at 
turning  to  their  own  account. 


WAYSIDE    SKETCHES.  261 

And  then  the  travelling  accounts  !  One  has  need 
to  congratulate  himself  upon  a  severe  acquaintance 
with  vulgar  fractions  to  be  sure  of  balancing  the  daily 
expenditures. 

Then  the  Austrian  Zwanziger,  and  the  Italian  Lira 
are  each  just  near  enough  to  a  franc  to  introduce 
hopeless  confusion  into  my  own  calculations ;  to  say 
nothing  of  the  fact  that  an  Austrian  florin  differs  from 
a  German  one  by  three-quarters  of  a  kreutzer.  The 
tornesi,  carlini  and  grani  of  Naples  are  disappearing 
among  the  clumsy  copper  coins  of  United  Italy ;  and 
it  is  really  comfortable  to  recognize,  in  the  baiocchi, 
pauls  and  scudi  of  Rome,  a  close  resemblance  to  our 
own  currency,  such  as  enables  one  to  form  some  ready 
conception  of  a  price,  without  an  exhausting  demand 
upon  the  fiscal  education. 

It  is  very  surprising  that  the  currency  of  each 
small  dominion  can  be  so  carefully  confined  within 
its  own  limits  as  to  be  rendered  utterly  useless  every 
where  else ;  but  the  arithmetical  exercises  necessary 
to  such  a  tour  as  ours,  are  cogent  arguments  in  favor 
of  the  universal  adoption  of  the  perfect  metric  system 
of  Napoleon.  I,  for  one,  most  heartily  wish  success 
to  that  particular  aim  of  the  present  statistical  Con 
gress  of  Nations. 


262  WAYSIDE     SKETCHES. 


CHAPTER   XIII. 


ITALY. 


Rome  — St.  Fetor's  — Vatican  — Villa  Borghese  —  Pincian  Hill  — Palaces  Ros. 
pigliosi,  Borghese,  Barberini,  Spada  —  Churches  of  St.  Augustin,  St.  John  in 
the  Lateran,  St.  Maria  Maggiore,  St.  Petro  in  Vineulo,  Cappuccini  —  Scala 
Santa  —  Fountains —  Catacombs  —  Columbaria  —  Baths —  Gem  a  —  Turin  — 
Mont  Cenis. 


OCT.  10.  Another  day  in  the  wilderness  of  Eome. 
We  have  been,  to-day,  under  the  auspices  of  a  valet  de 
place,  to  the  dome  of  St.  Peter's.  In  no  way  can  one 
get  so  thorough  an  idea  of  the  immense  magnitude  of 
St.  Peter's,  as  by  an  ascent  to  the  roof  and  the  ball. 

The  way  to  the  roof  is  by  an  inclined  plane  with 
out  steps,  and  the  ascent  easily  accomplished.  The 
roof  itself  is  a  broad  expanse,  flagged  with  stone, 
from  which  rise  not  only  the  huge  dome,  but  smaller 
ones,  which  would  seem  imposing  any  where  else. 

It  affords  a  fine  view  of  the  general  scope  of  the 
city  and  the  course  of  the  Tiber,  and  especially  of  the 
Vatican  and  its  gardens.  No  where  else  can  the 
Vatican  be  so  well  seen  in  all  its  great  extent. 

The  ascent  to  the  dome  is  by  staircases  between 
the  inner  and  outer  walls,  built  at  last  in  the  same 
zigzags  by  which  we  have  learned  to  ascend  moun 
tains.  From  the  top  of  the  dome  the  view  is  mag- 


WAYSIDE     SKETCHES.  263 

nificent ;  the  city,  the  Campagna  and  the  distant 
hills  forming  a  panorama  as  striking  to  the  eye  as  stir 
ring  to  the  imagination.  The  sluggish  Tiber  pours 
its  tide  between  the  old  and  the  new  city,  and  my 
fancy  filled  the  low  hills  on  its  right  with  the  Etrus 
can  armies,  while  the  little  wooden  bridge  was  crashing 
to  the  waves  behind  the  hero  of  Eoman  romance ; 
and  the  buried  dust  of  the  ancient  city  stirred  anew 
with  the  Fathers  and  the  Commons,  of  that  iron  time. 

From  the  inner  gallery  you  can  examine  the  rough 
mosaics,  made  of  large  bits  of  stones,  with  wide 
cracks  between,  that  produce  such  a  grand  effect  from 
below,  and  you  can  gaze  into  the  profound  depth,  and 
measure,  from  above,  the  height  which  every  where 
defies  your  power  of  appreciation. 

Finally,  we  climbed  the  perpendicular  ladder,  and 
ensconced  ourselves  within  the  hot  circle,  so  small 
when  seen  from  below,  yet  capable  of  containing  six 
teen  persons.  There  are  small  loop-holes  to  admit 
air  and  light,  and  from  them  one  can  take  in  a  suc 
cession  of  charming  pictures,  each  distinctly  framed 
by  the  sharp  lines  of  the  aperture. 

Thence,  after  another  stroll  about  the  aisles  of  the 
church,  through  which  it  is  impossible  to  hasten,  we 
went  to  the  Vatican  gallery,  a  small  but  choice  col 
lection  of  pictures ;  I  suppose  the  best  of  its  size  in 
the  world.  Among  them,  those  which  strike  the 
unlearned  taste  most  forcibly,  are  those  also  upon 
which  the  world  of  art  has  impressed  its  seal  of 
approbation. 


264  WAYSIDE     SKETCHES. 

The  best  in  oar  eyes  were  that  magnificent  Com 
munion  of  St.  Jerome,  by  Domenichino ;  Kaphael's 
Transfiguration ;  Gruido's  Martyrdom  of  St.  Peter ; 
A  Madonna  and  Child,  with  St.  Thomas  and  St. 
Jerome,  by  the  same  hand ;  St.  Jerome,  by  Da  Vinci ; 
Gruercino's  Incredulity  of  St.  Thomas,  and  two  splen 
did  pictures  by  Murillo ;  The  Mystical  Marriage  of 
St.  Catharine,  and  The  Eeturn  of  the  Prodigal.  This 
gallery  is  unlike  all  others  that  we  have  visited.  In 
others,  even  the  finest,  there  have  been  scores  of 
indifferent  pictures,  gilded  Madonnas,  with  no  merit 
beyond  their  age,  painful  distortions  of  the  human 
figure,  and  countless  paintings  which  have  merit  to 
the  initiated,  but  which  win  no  favor  in  the  eyes  of 
laymen.  But  in  the  Vatican  there  is  no  picture 
which  one  would  not  return,  again  and  again,  to 
study  and  admire. 

We  went  also  to  the  mosaic  manufactory  of  the 
Vatican,  where  these  great  works  are  reproduced  with 
minute  fidelity ;  a  labor  far  from  being  simply  me 
chanical,  but  requiring  a  truly  artistic  eye.  The 
completion  of  these  exquisite  copies  requires  from 
five  to  twenty  years.  They  are  made  only  for  the 
disposal  of  His  Holiness  in  gifts  to  royalty,  or  for  the 
adorning  of  the  great  churches.  Besides  the  knowl 
edge  of  art  necessary  to  copy  figure  and  color,  it 
seems  to  me  to  require  great  skill  to  proportion  the 
size  of  the  stones  and  the  minuteness  of  finish  to  the 
distance  from  which  the  work  is  to  be  viewed.  That 
perfect  proportion  is  one  of  the  chief  marvels  of  St. 


WAYSIDE     SKETCHES.  265 

Peter's,  and  demanded  nothing  less  than  a  Michael 
Angelo  to  combine  the  architect  with  the  artist. 

At  the  Eospigliosi  palace,  the  one  great  attraction 
is  Guide's  Aurora,  a  picture  beyond  all  praise,  beau 
tiful  as  a  dream,  and  a  grateful  relief  to  the  eye 
wearied  by  Madonnas.  One  might  easily  turn  pagan 
in  Kome,  were  it  only  to  soothe  his  irritated  taste  for 
the  graceful. 

The  great  masters  of  sacred  art  were  wont  to 
embody  their  genius  in  many  painful  scenes,  marvel- 
ously  true  to  life,  and  all  the  more  exhausting  from 
that  very  circumstance,  but  here  all  is  airy  grace  and 
entrancing  beauty.  A  perfect  realization  of  ethereal 
charms  floats  before  the  car  of  day,  dropping  flowers 
from  her  hands,  while  the  exquisite  group  of  the 
hours  follow  in  their  train,  leading  a  dance,  in  which 
every  attitude  is  faultless. 

It  was  a  charming  drive  to  the  Villa  Borghese,  an 
elegant  country  seat  without  the  walls.  The  casino 
is  a  succession  of  magnificent  halls,  works  of  art  in 
themselves,  and  filled  with  paintings  and  statuary. 
There  are  some  charming  pieces  of  alto  relievo  from 
classic  subjects,  and  a  grand  one  of  Curtius  leaping 
into  the  gulf  confronts  the  great  entrance.  Among 
the  statues  is  a  fine  dancing  Fawn,  discovered  in 
some  ancient  excavation,  and  Bernini's  splendid 
group  of  David  and  Goliath.  But  nothing  here  sur 
passes  Canova's  Pauline  Buonaparte,  and  an  oil  fresco 
by  Ga^nereau,  of  a  sleeping  Venus,  is  exquisite 
beyond  description. 

18 


266  WAYSIDE     SKETCHES. 

We  were  stopped  on  our  return  at  the  Church  of 
St.  Augustin,  to  see  the  marvelous  display  of  gifts, 
in  jewels,  silver  and  gold,  at  the  shrine  of  the  Virgin, 
who  sits  benignantly,  clad  in  adornings  of  which  the 
lowly  Virgin  never  dreamed,  to  receive  upon  her  toe 
the  kisses  of  the  faithful. 

Last,  but  not  least,  we  went  to  see  a  fine  new  piece 
of  sculpture,  called  the  Pompeian  Mother,  represent 
ing  a  beautiful  woman,  with  an  infant  clasped  in  her 
arms,  shielding  both  herself  and  it  from  the  fast 
falling  cinders,  by  a  drapery,  which  she  spreads 
above  her  head,  while  she  presses  on  to  seek  shelter 
and  safety,  with  a  concentration  of  intentness  which 
leaves  no  room  for  the  emotions  of  either  fear  or 
horror.  I  expect  to  hear  the  narn^  of  Meli  among 
the  masters  of  sculpture  before  I  die. 

My  ideal  Corso,  for  which  I  have  looked  in  vain 
while  unconsciously  passing  and  re-passing  the  real 
street,  has  resolved  itself  into  a  long,  unremark 
able  street,  wide,  indeed,  for  Kome,  and  dignified 
as  the  others  are  not,  by  a  sidewalk,  filled  in  the 
afternoon  with  handsome  carriages  and  riders. 

We  have  been  to  drive  in  the  gardens  of  the 
Pincian  Hill,  a  charming  resort,  which  commands  a 
fine  view  of  the  city.  The  drive  ascends  the  hill 
by  winding  terraces,  gay  with  the  equipages  of  all 
ranks  and  nations.  Mounted  sentinels,  immovable 
as  statues,  are  stationed  at  the  entrance  of  the  private 
avenues,  and  the  gardens  are  adorned  with  busts  and 
statues.  This  elevation  gives  a  fine  view  of  St. 


WAYSIDE     SKETCHES.  267 

Peter's,  which  seems,  to  pervade  the  entire  city,  and 
looms  up  larger  and  higher  as  we  become  accustomed 
to  the  distances,  and  the  edifices  begin  to  assume 
name  and  form  to  our  recognition. 

The  mind  absolutely  refuses  to  receive,  as  a  type 
of  the  severe  statuesque  Eoman  matron,  the  herds  of 
womanhood,  neither  severe  nor  comely,  who  inhabit 
the  ancient  city.  The  vestal  fire  is  quenched  ;  the 
Penates  are  not  those  of  the  days  of  Lucretia,  and 
one  could  enumerate  many  divinities  whose  worship 
is  conducted  under  the  open  vault  of  heaven,  whose 
rites  are  mysterious  no  longer.  And  I  fear  there  is 
less  dignity,  and  no  more  piety  in  many  of  the  so- 
called  Christian  temples,  than  characterized  the  wor 
ship  of  Jupiter  and  Saturn. 

Oct.  12.  We  have  spent  the  day  in  seeing  pictures, 
statuary  and  curiosities,  and  my  not  very  strong  head 
is  tangled  with  a  general  complication  of  saints, 
martyrs,  goddesses,  athletes,  vases,  columns,  shrines 
and  sarcophagi. 

For  some  reason  or  other,  my  heart  was  not  in 
sight-seeing,  but  brim  full  of  individual  interests,  and 
I  scarcely  do  justice  to  the  wonders  of  the  day.  One 
thing  that  has  impressed  me  deeply,  in  looking  at  the 
exhumed  treasures  of  the  Museum,  is,  that  Eome  is 
built  upon  a  city  as  thoroughly  entombed,  and  more 
wonderful  in  its  riches,  than  the  revived  cities  of  Her- 
culaneum  and  Pompeii.  The  very  dust  upon  which 
we  tread  is  the  depository  of  art  and  treasure,  such 
as  filled  the  palaces  of  ancient  Rome,  or  rolled,  in 


268  WAYSIDE     SKETCHES. 

floods  of  riches,  along  the  triumphal  way  from  the 
Campus  Martius. 

One  grows  impatient  here.  We  come  to  see 
Roman  Koine,  and  Romish  Rome  every  where  treads 
down  the  ancient  landmarks,  and  turns  the  temples 
and  palaces  with  which  we  are  familiar  into*  idol 
shrines  of  far  more  puerile  observances. 

One  of  the  most  striking  features  of  Rome  is  the 
abundance  of  water.  Fountains  spout  alike  from 
homely  corners  and  ornamented  basins.  The  jets  in 
the  piazza  of  St.  Peter's  have  been  playing  night  and 
day,  for  two  thousand  years,  and  the  long  solid 
arches,  which*  Appius  Claudius,  of  hateful  memory, 
built  three  hundred  years  before  Christ,  still  conduct 
the  living  flood  into  the  degenerate  city. 

There  are  some  fountains  of  especial  note ;  the 
largest  and  finest  that  we  have  seen  is  the  fountain 
of  Trevi,  built  against  the  lofty  facade  of  the  Palace 
Centi.  The  water  rushes  in  a  broad,  deep  flood,  over 
an  enormous  mass  of  rock  work,  and  falls  into  a  vast 
basin,  in  which  Neptune  reclines  in  his  car,  sur 
rounded  by  Tritons.  How  refreshing  is  the  depth 
and  purity  of  those  waters,  and  how  one  lingers  to 
listen  to  the  plash  of  those  crystal  streams,  one 
should  traverse  the  streets  of  Rome  to  know.  The 
water  is  clear,  sweet,  and  cold,  fortunately  requiring 
no  ice,  as  that  is  an  unattainable  luxury  here. 

To  return  to  the  Vatican ;  the  statuary,  like  the 
paintings,  is  of  acknowledged  and  unrivalled  merit 
I  must  pass  by  countless  works  of  art  in  precious 


WAYSIDE     SKETCHES.  269 

stones,  and  sculptures  of  more  or  less  merit,  which 
make  the  halls  of  the  Vatican  a  study  for  years ;  and 
note  the  few  which  stand  out  prominently  in  my 
memory  —  which  are  an  Athlete;  Meleager  and  a 
Boar ;  The  Apollo  and  Antinous  Belvidere ;  the  great 
Laocoon,  a  cast  from  which  has  haunted  my  memory 
from  my  babyhood ;  and  a  Perseus,  by  Canova,  which 
last,  it  is  safe  to  predict,  will  outstrip  even  the  sculp 
tures  of  the  ancients,  when  posterity  shall  have 
reached  such  a  distance  as  shall  give  them  the  same 
perspective. 

In  the  palace  Borghese  there  are  many  really 
splendid  pictures.  Raphael's  magnificent  Entomb 
ment  of  Christ ;  Danae,  by  Corregio,  in  its  execution, 
as  I  think,  the  most  beautiful  of  them  all ;  the  cele 
brated  Cumean  Sibyl,  by  Domcnichino ;  St.  Ignatius 
devoured  by  wild  beasts,  by  Giordano ;  Head  of  St. 
Joseph,  by  Gruido;  a  fine  Madonna,  by  Dolci;  the 
Chase  of  Diana,  by  Domenichino;  St.  John  in  the 
Desert,  by  Paul  Veronese ;  Sacred  and  Profane  Love, 
and  Sampson,  both  by  Titian ;  and  a  portrait  in  the 
Rembrandt  style,  of  Marie  de  Medici.  ^ 

In  the  Barberini  is  Raphael's  Fornarina,  and  a  fine 
picture  of  Lucrezia  Cenci,  by  Graetani ;  but  we  had 
no  eyes  for  any  thing  except  the  marvelous  Beatrice, 
the  most  faultless  face  —  the  most  spiritual,  gentle, 
resigned,  grief-ful  face,  that  was  ever  put  upon  canvas. 
Those  tender  luminous  eyes  haunt  me  with  such  a 
beseeching  claim  upon  my  pity,  that  I  cannot  believe 
that  the  original  has  mingled  with  the  dust  of  cen- 


270  WAYSIDE     SKETCHES. 

times  —  that  the  fair  young  head  ever  hung  ghastly 
upon  the  very  bridge  over  which  we  pass  in  daily 
indifference. 

In  the  same  room  is  a  picture  by  Del  Sarto,  the 
best  of  the  myriad  Holy  Families  that  I  have  seen. 
The  undeniable  tendency  of  such  a  superabounding 
holiness  is  to  make  one  fatally  profane,  and  one  wel 
comes  a  real  heathen  goddess  with  relief,  provided  it 
be  not  a  reiteration  of  Yenus. 

St.  John  in  the  Lateran  is  a  splendid  church.  It 
is  the  most  ancient  of  the  Basilicas,  and  is  the  parish 
church  of  the  Pope.  Our  guide  was  evidently  scan 
dalized  by  our  indifferent  manner  of  declining  a  sight 
of  the  table  upon  which  the  Last  Supper  was  cele 
brated,  but  we  were  not  interested  in  the  precious 
relic,  veritable  as  it  is,  and  wrought  of  cedar  and 
silver. 

The  Corsini  chapel  contains  the  most  splendid  and 
costly  curiosities  of  the  whole  church,  being  adorned 
with  an  incredible  amount  of  jewels,  precious  stones, 
exquisite  marbles,  mosaics  and  sculpture.  In  a  sub 
terranean  chapel  beneath  the  one  just  mentioned,  is 
a  Pieta  of  consummate  beauty,  by  Montauti.  A 
Pieta,  by  the  way,  is  a  group  of  the  Virgin  with  the 
dead  Christ  in  her  arms. 

It  seems  ridiculous  and  irritating,  that  such  a  gem 
of  loveliness  should  be  concealed  in  this  dark  recess, 
and  permitted  to  be  seen  only  by  the  smoky  candle 
of  the  attendant.  The  tenderness  of  the  mother, 
the  reverence  of  the  Christian,  are  exquisitely 


WAYSIDE     SKETCHES.  271 

blended  in  the  beautiful  figure  of  the  Virgin,  while 
the  Christ  seems  nothing  short  of  perfection. 

The  largest  obelisk  in  Rome  is  in  the  space  before 
the  Lateran.  It  is  of  red  granite,  and  covered  with 
hieroglyphics. 

We  encountered  here  the  very  best  specimen  of 
the  genus  beggar  that  we  have  found  in  all  these 
begging  countries.  She  was  the  Irish  beggar  of  the 
Coliseum,  and  this  was  our  second  interview.  The 
late  abundant  rain  had  rendered  the  Coliseum  unap 
proachable,  and  she  was  plying  her  vocation  within 
the  city.  Of  all  beggars,  commend  me  to  the  Irish 
for  ingenuity  and  importunity.  The  gravity  of  her 
assertion  that  she  had  eaten  nothing  in  five  days; 
the  corresponding  gravity  with  which  she  was  assured 
that,  such  being  the  case,  nothing  could  save  her 
life ;  her  baffled  disgust  at  being  proffered  food  in 
stead  of  money ;  the  respectability  of  her  numerous 
testimonials,  and  the  Parthian  arrow  which  she  dis 
charged  at  our  hard  hearts,  were  truly  curiosities  in 
their  way,  that  cost  no -slight  effort  to  regard  with 
decorum. 

Hard  by,  in  a  porch  of  the  Lateran,  is  the  Scala 
Santa,  or  holy  staircase ;  which  can  be  ascended  only 
upon  the  knees ;  where  the  light  of  the  divine  atone 
ment  first  burst  upon  the  soul  of  Luther.  And 
here,  this  very  day,  we  have  seen  the  people  of  the 
nineteenth  century  crawling  devoutly  up,  to  claim 
the  indulgences  granted  to  the  pious  act. 

Santa  Maria  Maggiore  is,  like  many  other  churches, 


272  WAYSIDE     SKETCHES. 

famous  for  its  wealth  and  beauty,  and  is  remarkable 
for  its  beautiful  columns;  but  we  are  weary  of 
churches,  and  mean  to  see  pagan *Rome  to-morrow. 

Oct.  13.  We  have  been  diving  into  the  substratum 
of  this  marvelous  city  to-day,  and,with  two  exceptions, 
have  ignored  the  Eome  of  the  Pope.  The  exceptions 
consisted  of  a  visit  to  the  Church  of  the  Capuchins, 
to  see  Guide's  famous  picture  of  St.  Michael  and  the 
Dragon  ;  a  picture  of  great  power,  which  fails  signally 
in  any  attempts  at  copy  that  we  have  seen.  The 
almost  supernatural  combination  of  exquisite  spirit 
ual  beauty  with  holy  indignation  and  resistless  power, 
is  beyond  any  conception  but  that  of  Guido  himself. 
This  church  also  contains  a  splendid  picture  of  the 
Conversion  of  St.  Paul,  by  Cortona ;  and  one  of  the 
Ecstasy  of  St.  Francis,  by  Domenichino. 

The  other  church  was  that  of  St.  Pietro  in  Yin- 
culo,  containing  Guide's  Speranza,  which  was  disap. 
pointing ;  and  a  statue  of  Moses,  by  Michael  Angelo. 
The  conception  of  the  great  Lawgiver  is  so  just  that 
the  mind  rests  with  a  satisfaction  upon  its  execution, 
which  is  often  withheld  from  great  works  of  art 
which  fail  to  realize  our  own  ideal.  This  has  finished 
our  pictures. 

We  have  seen  besides,  the  Catacombs ;  the  tombs 
of  the  Scipios ;  the  Columbaria  of  Caesar's  household  ; 
the  Circus  of  Marcellus;  the  Cloaca  Maxima;  the 
Silver  Fountain  ;  the  Arch  of  Janus ;  the  circus  and 
temple  of  Romulus ;  the  baths  of  Titus  and  Caracalla ; 
the  Tarpeian  rock ;  Pompey's  Pillar ;  the  house  of 


WAYSIDE     SKETCHES.  273 

Raphael ;  the  porch  of  Antoninus,  and  many  ruins  and 
fragments  of  public  works ;  all  which  bear  date  far 
back  into  the  regions  of  legendary  history. 

The  Cloaca  Maxima  is  among  the  most  ancient  of 
all  Roman  remains.  It  was  constructed  one  hundred 
and  fifty  years  after  the  founding  of  the  city,  or  about 
six  hundred  years  before  Christ ;  and  still  serves  the 
purpose  of  a  sewer  connecting  with  the  Tiber. 

This  part  of  the  city  is  the  spot  where  the  little 
cluster  of  huts  built  by  Romulus,  became  the  germ 
of  the  Metropolis  of  the  earth ;  and  here  the  legend 
says,  the  twins  were  cast  ashore,  hard  by  the  Palatine 
hill,  crowned  with  the  magnificent  ruins  of  the 
palaces  of  the  Caesars. 

Near  by  is  the  Silver  Fountain,  at  which  Castor 
and  Pollux  watered  their  steeds  after  the  battle  of 
Lake  Regilius.  It  is  still  much  resorted  to  on  ac 
count  of  its  medicinal  properties. 

We  drove  through  the  Appian  Gate,  out  upon  the 
Appian  way,  the  old  wall  still  skirting  that  street  of 
tombs,  to  the  great  circus  of  Romulus ;  an  immense 
amphitheatre  for  races  and  games.  Adjoining  is  the 
temple  of  Romulus,  with  the  addition  of  a  church, 
which  follows  here,  of  course.  All  these  strong, 
lasting  walls  have  been  stripped  of  the  marbles  which 
gave  them  their  beauty,  but  the  inner  structure  has 
still  ages  of  duration  in  it. 

The  Catacombs — that  dread  mysterious,  subterra 
nean  world  —  what  can  I  say  of  them  ?  We  wound 
along  the  countless  narrow  streets  of  that  silent 


274  WAYSIDE     SKETCHES. 

abode,  peopled  with  myriads  upon  myriads  of  the 
inhabitants  of  ancient  Kome.  These  excavations 
honeycomb  the  Campagna  for  miles,  and  reach  down 
to  Ostia.  And  when  we  remember  what  a  large  pro 
portion  of  the  Roman  dead  were  burned  to  ashes, 
and  deposited  in  the  Columbaria,  or  in  household 
urns,  these  depositories,  crowded  with  graves,  speak 
more  expressively  of  the  vast  population  which  had 
need  of  this  immense  work,  than  any  estimate  of  the 
dwellings  of  the  living  can  do.  Darker  deeds  than 
have  stained  the  pages  of  any  other  history,  are 
written  upon  these  black  walls.  It  is  estimated  that 
nearly  two  hundred  thousand  Christians  were  slaugh 
tered  in  these  gloomy  recesses,  whither  they  had  fled 
from  the  raging  persecutions. 

One  would  think  such  a  living  tomb  scarcely  pref 
erable  to  a  more  speedy  release  by  martyrdom; 
nevertheless,  countless  families,  holy  men  and  wo 
men,  and  tender  children  sought  shelter  in  these 
chill  dungeons,  and  here  the  voice  of  prayer  and 
praise  went  up  to  heaven,  and  here  the  brethren 
brought  the  remains  of  the  martyred  faithful,  and  left 
upon  their  resting  places  the  symbol  which  distin 
guishes  the  Christian  from  the  pagan. 

Some  of  the  inscriptions  upon  fragments  of  tombs 
at  the  entrance  struck  me  with  a  sudden  tenderness 
of  human  universal  sympathy,  which  fails  to  arise 
in  the  midst  of  generalities.  There  was  a  "  puella 
dilecta"  and  an  "infans  dulcissime"  in  the  ages  past, 
as  well  as  among  the  babies  around  our  own  knees. 


WAYSIDE     SKETCHES.  275 

From  the  entrance  to  the  catacombs  of  Calixtus, 
one  gets  a  grand  view  of  St.  Peter's.  The  mighty 
cathedral  seems  to  need  a  distance  like  this  (of  six 
miles)  to  be  apprehended  in  its  greatness;  and  the 
dome  swells  through  the  cloudless  air,  as  if  it  alone 
were  Eome,  and  the  city  but  its  pavement. 

The  tombs  of  the  Scipios,  in  which  lie  all  the 
heroes  of  that  noble  race,  except  Africanus,  claimed 
an  interest  similar  to  the  Catacombs ;  but  the  Colum 
baria  had  more  the  effect  of  a  curiosity.  In  deep 
apartments  there  are  built  small  niches,  like  the 
nests  of  a  dove-cote,  in  which  are  deposited  the 
ashes  of  the  dead,  and  inscriptions  on  the  walls 
mark  their  identity.  We  saw,  yesterday,  the  ovens 
in  which  the  bodies  were  reduced  to  ashes. 

Nothing  has  been  more  calculated  to  impress  us 
with  the  elaborate  splendor  of  Eoman  magnificence, 
than  the  baths.  The  baths  of  Caracalla  retain  their 
walls,  some  of  their  beautiful  mosaic  pavements,  and 
the  ruins  of  such  stupendous  columns  and  massive 
roofs  as  fill  the  spectator  with  amazement.  The 
falling  of  the  roof  and  upper  story  has  entirely 
covered  the  real  area  of  the  baths,  which  held  at 
once  sixteen  hundred  people  ;  while  the  amphitheatre 
was  decorated  with  a  wealth  and  luxury,  such  as 
scarcely  belonged  to  the  palaces.  The  great  statues 
which  we  saw  at  Naples ;  the  Farnese  Bull,  Flora 
and  Hercules,  were  taken  from  the  grand  oval  of 
these  baths.  These  figures  are  colossal,  and  are 
placed  in  the  Museum  in  the  relative  position  in 


276  WAYSIDE     SKETCHES. 

which,  they  were  found.  The  central  group  is  a  work 
of  great  size  and  beautiful  finish.  It  represents  the 
sons  of  Antiope  in  the  act  of  fastening  Dirce  to  the 
horns  of  a  furious  bull,  while  their  mother  looks  on 
from  a  distance.  The  shrinking,  imploring  terror  of 
the  victim,  the  powerful  strength  of  the  young  man 
who  grasps  the  struggling  animal,  and  the  immovable 
sternness  of  the  mother,  are  portrayed  with  painful  viv 
idness.  The  extent  of  this  building  was  nearly  a  mile. 

The  baths  of  Titus  are  smaller,  but  more  magnifi 
cent.  They  are,  in  themselves,  a  striking  epitome  of 
Eornan  history.  We  look  at  Myoenas,  and  Nero, 
and  Titus,  very  much  upon  the  same  plane  —  but 
here  is  the  perspective.  Upon  the  ruined  villa  of 
the  wealthy  Mycenas,  Nero  built  an  edifice,  which 
became,  in  its  turn,  the  substratum  of  the  luxurious 
baths  of  Titus ;  and,  one  above  another,  the  distinctive 
remains  of  each  age  are  to  be  traced. 

From  these  baths  was  exhumed  the  statue  of  Mel- 
eager,  at  the  Vatican,  and  also  a  splendid  porphyry 
urn  in  the  Museum. 

We  contented  ourselves  with  a  survey  of  the  exte 
rior  of  the  Pantheon,  which  is  transferred  to  a  new 
idol  worship. 

The  palace  of  the  Orsini  is  built  above  the  theatre 
and  circus  of  Marcellus,  and  the  ancient  substructure 
is  perfectly  discernible. 

One  begins  after  a  time  to  penetrate  the  interme 
diate  rubbish,  and  to  give  local  habitation  and  a 
name  to  the  ideals  of  Roman  history,  and  poetry,  and 


WAYSIDE     SKETCHES.  277 

mythology.  We  returned  home  by  the  Spada  palace, 
to  see  Pompey's  statue,  at  whose  base  "great  Caesar 
fell."  In  an  alcove  at  this  palace  we  saw  a  curious 
effect  of  imagination,  or  rather  of  perspective.  At  the 
end  of  an  apparently  long  vista  of  arbor,  we  saw  a 
statue,  as  it  appeared,  of  the  size  of  a  full  grown 
man;  and  nothing  but  repeated  experiment  could 
convince  the  senses  that  it  was  scarcely  four  feet  high 
and  but  a  few  feet  distant  from  the  eye.  The  illu 
sion  is  produced  by  the  rapid  diminishing  and  nar 
rowing  of  the  rows  of  columns  painted  upon  the 
sides  of  the  alcove. 

We  were,  by  this  time,  weary ;  and  came  home  to 
lay  up  in  our  memory  the  wonders  of  art  and  anti 
quity,  of  magnificence  and  desolation,  with  which 
the  imperial  city  is  crowned  and  scourged. 

Oct.  15.  I  just  began  to  realize  the  depth  of  interest 
in  Eome  as  we  drove  for  the  last  time  through  the  an 
cient  streets,  past  obelisk,  fountain,  column,  palace  and 
temple.  The  combination  of  the  two  interests  of  art 
and  association  tends  to  confuse  the  pleasure  of  a 
short  sojourn  in  the  city.  That  which  is  modern  and 
continental  overlays  that  which  is  ancient  and  pecu 
liar,  and  presses  itself  first  and  most  urgently  upon 
the  attention. 

I  venture  to  say  that,  universally,  the  first  visits  in 
Rome  are  to  churches  and  picture  galleries ;  yet  it  is 
beneath  all  this  that  the  profound  heart  of  the  city 
lies,  and  one  needs  to  close  the  bodily  eyes,  and 
people  his  own  brain,  by  the  help  of  the  landmarks 


278  WAYSIDE     SKETCHES. 

which  he  has  seen,  with  the  existences  of  the  past. 
Koma  fait  —  she  wore  the  purple,  and  grasped  the" 
reins  of  dominion ;  she  brought  to  a  common  focus 
the  art,  the  learning,  the  polish  of  Greece,  the  gor 
geous  magnificence  of  oriental  wealth,  and  the  muscle 
and  sinew  of  the  northern  barbarians;  and  then, 
like  Tarpeia,  she  sank,  overwhelmed  by  the  weight 
of  her  gifts.  Hers  was  not  the  genius  of  creation, 
either  in  poesy,  oratory  or  literature,  but  she  possessed 
the  power  of  elaboration,  by  which  she  wrought 
materials,  already  created,  into  shape,  for  use  and 
transmission.  Her  era  was  an  advance  in  the  civili 
zation  of  the  world,  and  eminently  an  era  of  law. 

But  this  great  moral  fungus,  which  crops  oat  from 
every  spot  in  Rome,  has  no  share  in  the  great  memo 
ries  of  the  nation  or  the  city.  Rome  exists  no  longer. 
The  papal  system,  like  the  foul  excrescences  which 
creep  over  a  decaying  tree,  shines  in  crimson  and 
gold  and  silver,  and,  like  them,  a  touch  discloses  the 
decay  and  rottenness  within.  We  who  protest 
against  the  corrupt  church,  have  reason  to  be  thank 
ful  that  she  has  her  seat  in  the  most  insignificant 
nation  upon  earth.  Perhaps  it  is  by  a  wise  dispen 
sation  of  Providence,  that  these  fountains  of  evil  are 
pent  up  within  a  certain  sanctity  of  position,  instead 
of  being  scattered  abroad  to  carry  their  prestige  into 
any  other  quarter  of  the  globe.  However  interested  in 
our  stay,  we  bade  adieu  to  Rome  with  no  reluctance ; 
nor  will  it  be  with  any  reluctance  that  I  shall  lose 
sight  of  the  yeasty  waves  of  the  blue  Mediterranean. 


WAYSIDE   SKETCHES.  279 

We  have  passed  the  day  with  home  friends,  who 
have  been  also  our  pleasant  travelling  companions, 
upon  a  French  steamer  at  anchor  off  Leghorn,  which 
anchorage  our  former  experience  here  did  not  tempt 
us  to  abandon. 

These  Mediterranean  steamers  sail  at  night,  and 
spend  the  days  in  taking  on  and  discharging  freight 
and  passengers  at  the  different  ports.  We  have  come 
on  from  Civita  Vecchia,  even  with  the  horrors  of  the 
former  passage  in  our  memory,  as  our  time  was  too 
limited  for  a  return  by  land,  as  we  desired,  and  we 
are  hastening  to  France  by  Genoa  and  Turin.  It  has 
been  one  of  those  restful  days  which  are  impossible 
upon  land,  in  a  country  where  there  is  so  much  to 
tax  the  eye  and  brain — but  it  is  nevertheless  a  sea 
sick  place,  and  I  long  for  terra  finna. 

Oct.  16.  The  rain  prevented  our  doing  more  in  Ge 
noa  la  superba,  than  driving  a  little  through  the  prin 
cipal  streets,  visiting  some  of  the  shops,  and  looking 
up  and  down  the  steep  flights  of  steps  that  connect 
the  streets.  The  city  is  beautifully  situated  upon  the 
crescent  bay,  and  elaborately  surrounded  by  long 
lines  of  fortifications,  to  which  the  natural  defenses 
of  the  hills  are  well  adapted.  The  forests  of  masts 
indicate  the  commercial  character  of  the  place,  but 
the  shallowness  of  the  water  prevents  vessels  coming 
to  the  piers,  giving  occupation  to  swarms  of  boatmen, 
as  at  Leghorn ;  but  not  to  such  a  grasping  race  as 
their  brethren  at  the  latter  place.  A  fine  statue  of 
Columbus  stands  opposite  the  station,  with  handsome 


280  WAYSIDE     SKETCHES. 

panels  of  bas  relief,  representing  important  events  in 
the  life  of  the  great  adventurer. 

On  our  way  from  Alessandria  to  Turin,  we  en 
countered  the  first  detention  by  accident  that  has 
occurred  during  our  whole  journey.  The  train  ran 
over  a  cow,  breaking  a  wheel,  and  throwing  one  of 
the  carriages  off  the  track.  However,  no  one  was 
hurt,  and  the  carriage  was  soon  replaced.  The  same 
rain  continued,  and  prevented  our  seeing  any  thing 
more  of  Turin  than  that  it  is  a  fine,  modern-built 
city,  with  wide  streets  and  handsome  buildings.  We 
came  on  to  Susa  for  the  night,  for  an  early  start 
across  Mount  Cenis,  and  staid  at  a  queer  inn,  with 
the  oddest,  out  of  door  effect.  The  rooms  opened 
upon  a  heavy  stone  gallery,  which  overlooked  a 
court,  filled  with  diligences  and  various  other  vehicles ; 
all  outside  rude  and  coarse,  while  within  all  was 
comfortable  and  restful  to  weary  travellers.  We 
went  through  the  usual  process  of  discussion  with 
the  proprietors  of  the  possible  vehicles,  and  entered 
into  solemn  contract,  with  printed  conditions  and 
penalties,  which  did  not,  however,  prevent  our 
enjoying  the  repose  of  the  night. 

Oct.  17.  The  imperative  hour  for  an  early  departure 
arrived  before  the  inmates  of  the  inn  were  astir,  and 
we  began  to  fear  the  necessity  of  setting  forth  on  a  dim, 
chill  morning,  without  our  breakfast,  and  that,  too, 
upon  -a  mountain  pass,  with  no  possible  breakfast 
upon  the  way.  However,  the  Italian  system  pre 
vailed,  and  we  not  only  waited  for  our  breakfast  and 


WAYSIDE    SKETCHES.  281 

enjoyed  the  steaks,  and  fagots  of  delicate  Italian 
bread,  but  did  so  without  losing  our  connection  with 
the  railway  on  the  other  side. 

The  passage  of  Mount  Cenis,  which  was  the  route 
of  Hannibal,  is  less  picturesque  or  grand  than  the 
other  Alpine  passes  which  we  have  made ;  but  while 
it  verified  the  vetturino's  description  of  "a good  road 
but  a  bad  route,"  it  is  not  without  striking  features 
peculiar  to  itself.  We  had  expected  to  travel  to 
Paris,  by  way  of  Marseilles,  so  that  it  was  with  a 
double  pleasure  that  I  welcomed  again  the  grave 
brown  range  of  the  Savoys.  The  pass,  though  shortr 
is  steep,  but  the  road  is  a  broad,  smooth  construction, 
magnificently  engineered  through  the  rough  defile. 

Here  we  found,  once  more,  the  rushing  beauty  of 
the  mountain  torrents,  and  countless  cascades,  lacing 
the  sides  of  the  mountain  in  long,  slender,  silver 
threads,  or  drifting  in  snowy  clouds  from  the  summit 
of  the  precipices.  Unlike  the  Bernese  Oberland, 
which  wears  its  velvet  greenness  to  the  very  footstool 
of  eternal  snow,  the  sides  of  the  hills  stretched  up 
ward,  almost  barren  of  turf,  but  gay  with  the  many 
hued  autumnal  foliage  of  the  scanty  forests.  They 
are,  in  general,  lacking  in  great  elevations  of  blank 
precipice,  but  near  the  summit  of  the  pass  one  mighty 
head  rises  square  and  black,  its  rugged  perpendicular 
face  written  all  over  with  the  hieroglyphics  of  creation. 

The  white  crests  gathered  closer  about  us  as  we 
went  onward  and  upward,  until  at  last  we  were  fairly 
in  the  midst  of  the  snows,  as  truly  as  if  it  had  been 

19 


282  WAYSIDE    SKETCHES. 

December  in  the  heart  of  Yankeedom.  Near  the 
summit  is  a  beautiful  lake  of  considerable  extent,  of 
which  we  have  often  heard  as  one  of  the  highest 
bodies  of  water  in  the  world. 

The  French  side  of  the  mountain  is  more  like  our 
former  experience  of  the  Alps ;  and  while  our  wheels 
were  crushing  the  snows  of  the  summit,  we  were 
overhanging  emerald  valleys,  dotted  with  town  and 
hamlet,  and  saw,  once  more,  the  unfailing  chalets 
perched  in  a  thousand  nooks,  and  cultivated  fields 
and  terraced  vineyards  clinging  to  the  sides  of  the 
brown  hills.  A  broad,  beautiful  stream  rushed  down 
to  unite  the  many  streamlets  from  the  summit  with 
the  river  which  flows  to  the  Ehone  in  the  winding 

o 

valley  of  the  deep  gorge,  down  which  we  zigzagged 
in  long  curves  to  St.  Michel,  where  we  found  rail 
again,  by  which  we  came  on  to  Chambery. 

Nearly  at  the  top  of  Mount  Cenis,  where  the  gorge 
of  the  defile  is  most  precipitous,  is  a  most  formidable 
mass  of  fortifications  commanding  the  pass,  a  perfect 
key  to  Italy  in  that  direction.  Hannibal  himself 
would  have  made  good  his  retreat  had  he  caught 
sight  of  such  preparations  to  welcome  his  approach. 
I  was  about  to  say  that  Napoleon  would  have  retired, 
but  that  I  am  inclined  to  doubt  for  he  who  marched 
an  army  across  the  great  St.  Bernard  would  surely 
have  contrived  some  way  of  evading  the  fortress  of 
Mount  Cenis  —  or  of  taking  it. 

Chambery  lies   in  a  lovely  valley,  encircled   by 
sharply    defined   ridges   of    mountains;    they   were 


WAYSIDE     SKETCHES.  283 

purple  with  the  slanting  rays  of  the  sunset  as  we  set 
out  on  our  night  journey  to  Paris,  and  the  broad 
sweet  lake  which  slept  at  their  foot,  gave  back  the 
glowing  sky  like  a  crystal  drop  at  the  bottom  of  an 
amethyst  goblet. 


284  WAYSIDE     SKETCHES. 


CHAPTER    XIV. 

FRANCE. 

Paris  —  Louvre — Notre  Dame  —  Hotel  des  Invalides —  Bois  de  Boulogne  — 
Jardin  des  Plants  — Gobelins  — Chapel  of  St.  Ferdinand  —  St.  Chapelle  — 
Luxembourg. 

OCT.  22.  This  is  our  fourth  day  in  this  great, 
brilliant,  cheerful,  showy  city.  The  first  two  days 
we  devoted  to  rest,  and  to  strolling  through  the  wide 
streets  and  wider  boulevards,  gazing  at  the  countless 
shops,  and  enjoying,  by  contrast,  after  the  dirty  nar 
row  streets  of  most  of  the  continental  cities,  the 
broad  avenues  and  splendid  gardens  of  this  metropolis 
of  elegance. 

It  seems  to  me  that  it  will  be  difficult  to  accomplish 
much  sight-seeing  while  the  city  itself  is  so  pleasing. 
Then,  too,  as  a  place  of  association,  it  means  less  than 
the  ancient  cities,  crowded  with  the  interests  of  two 
thousand  years. 

Yesterday  we  went  to  the  Bois  de  Boulogne,  to  see 
a  review  by  the  Emperor.  This  extensive  pleasure 
ground  is  perfectly  charming.  The  drives  meander 
through  a  wide  extent,  diversified  by  sweeps  of 
emerald  meadow,  long  forest  glades,  mounds  of 
flowers  and  shrubs,  shady  deer  parks,  and  the  most 


WAYSIDE     SKETCHES.  285 

beautiful  of  irregular  lakes,  where  troops  of  stately 
swans  sail  in  the  shadow  of  green  thickets,  or  feed 
upon  the  short  smooth  turf  of  the  margin.  Nothing 
is  wanting  to  make  the  place  a  most  attractive  resort 
for  the  pleasure  loving  inhabitants  of  the  city. 

The  review  took  place  in  a  field  of  such  extent 
that  the  eighty  thousand  troops  said  to  be  under 
arms  seemed  like  a  picture  of  an  army  rather  than  a 
living  body  of  soldier}'. 

There  is  no  need  to  say  any  thing  of  the  appearance 
or  organization  of  French  troops — nothing  can  be 
more  brilliant  and  perfect,  nevertheless,  I  liked  the 
Italian  army  better. 

We  had  an  excellent  view  of  the  Emperor,  as  he 
rode  within  a  few  feet  of  our  carriage.  He  is  a  grave, 
noble  looking  man,  much  handsomer  than  his  pic 
tures,  and  looks  every  inch  a  king.  I  could  not  but 
feel  painfully  for  a  man  whose  finger  presses  the 
spring  of  such  a  government  as  France ;  whose  daily 
life  lies  amid  a  network  of  ambuscade  and  precedent, 
which  must  sometimes  shake  even  the  iron  nerves  of 
Louis  Napoleon.  We  miss  the  pleasure  of  seeing  the 
Empress,  as  she  is  at  present  at  Madrid. 

The  vast  assemblage  of  soldiers  and  spectators 
melted  imperceptibly  away  from  the  avenues  of  the 
Bois  de  Boulogne,  leaving  only  the  long  line  of  car 
riages  and  horsemen  upon  their  afternoon  airing. 

We  returned  past  the  Triumphal  Arch,  which 
commemorates  the  victories  of  France,  and  down 
the  magnificent  avenue  of  the  Champs  Ely  sees — 


286  WAYSIDE    SKETCHES. 

such  an  avenue  as  is  to  be  found  no  where 
else  in  the  world.  The  mile  which  spreads  before 
one,  standing  at  the  Arc  de  1'etoile,  has  no  parallel. 
It  is  crossed  in  the  distance  by  the  splendid  palace  of 
the  Tuiieries,  and  beyond  can  be  seen,  here  and 
there,  the  towers  of  the  Louvre.  The  street  reaches 
down  a  gentle  descent,  growing  wider  and  wider, 
until  it  almost  loses  the  character  of  a  street,  and 
becomes  pleasure  grounds,  with  trees,  shrubs,  and 
flowers  upon  either  hand,  and  every  tempting  form 
of  amusement  and  attraction  for  children  spread  out 
upon  the  smooth  borders  of  the  triple  causeway. 
Half  way  down  it  attains  its  greatest  breadth ;  two 
large  fountains  rise  on  either  hand,  surrounded  by 
little  lawns  and  flower  borders.  On  the  right  you 
diverge  to  the  great  glass  Palace  of  Industry  ;  on  the 
left  are  the  charming  gardens  of  the  palace  d 'Ely sees. 
It  retains  its  park-like  aspect  even  to  the  Place  de  la 
Concorde — a  wide,  open  space,  directly  before  the 
gardens  of  the  Tuiieries,  which  was  occupied  by  the 
guillotine  during  the  Kevolution.  In  its  centre  stands 
the  great  obelisk  of  Luxor,  and  upon  each  side  are 
fountains  and  sculptures.  Among  the  latter  are  two 
splendid  horses,  originally  wrought  for  the  park  at 
Marly.  Between  this  space  and  the  palace  are  the 
beautiful  gardens  of  the  Tuiieries ;  on  the  right  the 
street  immediately  crosses  the  Seine,  and  presents  the 
public  buildings  of  the  general  government ;  on  the 
} eft  you  look  down  the  Eue  Koyale  to  the  Madeleine 
—  the  finest  church  in  Paris.  Still  farther  down,  at 


WAYSIDE     SKETCHES.  287 

right  angles  to  the  gardens  of  the  Tuileries,  is  the 
Place  Vendome,  with  the  column  and  statue  of 
Napoleon.  We  watched  the  lowering  of  the  figure 
of  the  General,  so  identified  with  the  very  idea  of 
Napoleon,  and  the  substitution  of  a  civic  statue  in  a 
Koman  toga  and  a  laurel  wreath.  The  destruction  of 
the  entire  column  could  not  more  effectually  obliterate 
the  Napoleonic  idea,  than  this  new  rendering  of  the 
personality  which  has  so  long  crowned  the  city. 

To  day  we  have  been  to  the  Louvre  and  the  gar 
dens  of  the  Tuileries.  The  gallery  of  the  Louvre 
does  not  contain  such  eminent  works  of  art,  as  have 
made  many  other  galleries  famous  ;  but  here  again  we 
find  the  brilliancy  of  Kubens,  the  majesty  of  Vandyke, 
the  grave  solemnity  of  Kembrandt,  the  sweetness  of 
Da  Vinci,  the  tenderness  of  Corregio,  the  heavy 
uniformity  of  Holbein,  the  rustic  naturalness  of 
Teniers,  the  golden-haired  beauties  that  Titian  loved 
to  paint,  the  life  and  soul  that  breathe  from  the  faces 
of  Raphael,  and  the  surpassing  spirit  and  power  and 
grace  of  Guido  —  the  master  who  towers  above  them 
all ;  to  say  nothing  of  such  painters  as  Domenichino, 
Guercino,  Tintorretto  and  Del  Sarto ;  in  whose  paint 
ings  are  united,  in  some  degree,  the  coloring  of  the  an 
cient,  and  the  expression  of  the  modern  schools.  The 
Louvre  was  a  sort  of  general  review  of  the  different 
styles  of  the  great  artists,  whose  works  are  seen  in 
their  perfection  in  the  different  galleries  of  the  con 
tinent,  and  are  here  brought  into  contrast,  each  with 
his  peculiar  idealit}^  and  individual  excellence.  It 


288  WAYSIDE    SKETCHES. 

was   refreshing   to   find   only  a  light  proportion  of 
the  Holy  Families  and  Venus. 

There  are  two  exquisite  modern  paintings  by  the 
same  artist,  whose  name  I  have  failed  to  discover ; 
Endymion  Sleeping,  and  The  Burial  of  Atala. 

But  the  grotesque  allegorical  conceptions  of  even 
great  painters,  especially  in  religious  subjects,  strike 
the  mind  of  the  modern  beholder  with  more  of  the 
ludicrous  than  the  reverent. 

It  seems  strange,  too,  when  the  emotions  of  the 
human  mind  must  have  been  the  same  in  all  ages, 
that  students  of  nature,  as  all  artists  are  supposed  to 
be,  should  have  failed  so  often  in  transferring  to 
canvas  any  adequate  picture  of  the  emotion  proper 
to  the  subject.  Of  this  the  face  of  the  Virgin  is  an 
eminent  example.  Nineteen  twentieths  of  the  Vir 
gins  wear  faces  more  earthly  and  expressionless  than 
that  of  any  peasant  to  be  found  in  common  life ; 
while  the  Judiths,  which  rival  the  Virgins  in  number, 
have  almost  invariably  a  simper  of  consciousness, 
which  would  be  fatal  to  a  girl  of  fourteen.  All  this, 
however,  is  very  unlearned  and  presumptuous  criti 
cism.  The  statuary  of  the  Louvre  does  not  compare 
with  the  collections  which  we  have  already  seen,  and, 
with  the  exception  of  the  Venus  of  Milo,  did  not 
seem  to  me  to  contain  very  remarkable  specimens 
of  art, 

Oct.  23.  I  have  another  idle  day  to  record.  We 
were  abroad  from  ten  to  six ;  and  with  the  exception  of 
visiting  Notre  Dame  and  Sainte  Chapelle,  and  getting 


WAYSIDE     SKETCHES.  289 

our  luggage  from  the  station,  we  have  spent  the  day 
in  that  sort  of  operation  expressed  in  America  by 
"loafing;"  walking  about  the  splendid  streets,  and 
gazing  at  the  brilliant  display  of  wares  that  make 
Paris  one  great  toy  shop. 

Notre  Dame  is  a  fine  Cathedral  of  the  eleventh 
century,  but  not  so  fine  as  those  of  Cologne,  Stras 
bourg  or  Italy.  The  wood  carvings  of  the  t  choir,  of 
the  fifteenth  century,  are  very  good.  The  Church  is 
not  decorated  with  paintings  and  sculpture,  as  is 
common  in  the  continental  cathedrals.  One  good 
bas  relief  represents  Archbishop  Arf,  as  he  endeav 
ored  to  quell  the  tumult  upon  the  barricades,  during 
the  last  revolution ;  an  attempt  which  proved  futile 
and  fatal,  but  which  has  canonized  him  for  all  gen 
erations. 

We  were  admitted  to  the  sacristy,  where  we  saw 
various  treasures ;  the  gold  coronation  service  of  the 
first  Napoleon ;  a  bit  of  the  true  cross  ;  some  remark 
able  jewels  and  vases  belonging  to  St.  Louis.  In  a 
carefully  guarded  case  is  a  most  magnificent  shrine, 
adorned  with  numberless  jewels ;  the  model  of  a 
larger  one  which  contains  the  veritable  crown  of 
thorns,  brought  from  Palestine,  by  St.  Louis,  and  de 
posited  in  Sainte  Chapel  le,  which  was  built  for  the 
purpose ;  and  in  which  service  is  performed  once  a 
year,  for  the  purpose  of  exhibiting  the  sacred  relic. 
At  least,  to  quote  our  Venetian  guide,  "  so  runs  the 
legend."  We  saw  the  mantle  of  crimson,  wrought 
with  golden  bees,  in  which  Napoleon  was  crowned ; 


290  WAYSIDE    SKETCHES. 

and  the  various  splendid  vestments  of  the  ecclesias 
tics  worn  on  that  occasion  ;  as  well  as  those  worn  at 
the  coronation  of  the  present  Emperor,  and  at  the 
baptism  of  the  little  prince. 

The  most  truly  remarkable  things  in  Notre  Dame 
were  two  silver  vases  presented  by  Charlemagne. 
The  attendant  told  us  that  in  some  recent  excavations 
in  the  course  of  the  present  repairs,  there  have  been 
discovered  the  bodies  of  the  Archbishop  who  founded 
the  Cathedral,  of  Philip  Augustus,  and  of  Elizabeth 
the  Second.  Behind  the  High  Altar  is  a  Pieta,  by 
Michael  Angelo,  but  it  does  not  compare  favorably 
with  the  same  group  by  the  same  master  at  Eome. 

Sainte  Chapelle  is  a  small  chapel,  lined  entirely 
with  tall  stained  windows  of  the  thirteenth  century 
—  beautiful,  and  very  different  from  other  church 
edifices.  It  is  not  intended  for  worship,  except  upon 
the  annual  exhibition  of  the  crown  of  thorns.  Both 
these  churches  are  upon  the  Isle,  to  which  there  is 
crossing  by  many  splendid  bridges  over  the  brown 
Seine ;  and  which  contains  some  of  the  oldest  build 
ings  of  the  city.  Sainte  Chapelle  is  adjoining  the 
palace  of  Justica 

We  have  been  to  the  Louvre  again,  and  have 
found  another  exquisite  picture,  the  St.  Margaret 
of  Raphael.  It  is  a  relief  to  find  that  the  glaring 
tints  of  Rubens'  long  series  of  Medici  pictures  are 
supposed  not  to  be  the  work  of  the  great  artist; 
but  of  his  pupils,  after  his  own  sketches. 

There  is  a  sweet  little  child  portrait  by  Velasquez, 


WAYSIDE    SKETCHES.  291 

the  infant  Marguerite  Therese.  But  the  gallery  is 
unsatisfying.  The  beautiful  hall  adorned  with  fresco 
and  bas  relief,  representing  the  seasons  and  the 
zodiac,  is  admirable. 

We  have  been  to  the  new  boulevards,  and  have 
admired  the  magnitude  of  the  works  which  are  con 
verting  the  irregular  suburbs  into  splendid  quarters. 

Oct.  26.  To-day  we  have  been  at  the  Hotel  des 
Invalides.  It  is  a  pleasure  to  see  with  what  care  these 
remnants  of  the  French  army  are  considered.  The 
house  is  worthy  of  its  object,  and  one  could  imagine 
the  pride  with  which  the  battered  veterans  of  the 
great  campaigns  of  the  French  army  pass  their  last 
days  beside  the  ashes  of  their  idolized  chief. 

The  chapel  of  the  Invalides  is  hung  with  many 
a  stained  and  tattered  ensign,  which  must  speak 
volumes  to  the  old  worshippers,  and  which  are  more 
touching,  even  to  the  careless  observer,  than  any  of 
the  paraphernalia  of  the  church  itself. 

The  tomb  of  the  great  Napoleon  is  beneath  the 
dome  of  the  church  behind  the  Invalides.  It  is  a  fit 
resting-place  for  the  man.  A  superb  sarcophagus 
encloses  the  remains  of  the  long  exiled  monarch.  It 
is  of  red  granite,  from  Finland,  massive,  yet  tasteful, 
with  no  excess  of  ornament.  It  is  sunk  many  feet 
below  the  floor  of  the  church,  in  a  circular  space, 
which  is  floored  with  mosaic,  and  bears  the  names  of 
his  principal  battles.  The  sides  of  the  depository  are 
adorned  with  figures,  representing,  allegorically,  the 
results  of  their  battles.  The  entrance  to  the  crypt  is 


292  WAYSIDE     SKETCHES. 

below  and  behind  the  High  Altar,  to  which  the 
descent  is  by  white  marble  steps.  There,  two  dark 
colossal  figures  guard  the  portal,  on  which  is  inscribed 
the  famous  sentence  in  which  the  dying  Emperor 
desired  his  ashes  to  rest  "upon  the  borders  of  the 
Seine,  in  the  midst  of  the  French  people  whom  he 
had  so  much  loved."  The  tombs  of  Duroc  and  Ber- 
trand  stand  on  either  hand.  The  altar  is  beautiful  — 
of  green  and  Egyptian  marble;  and  in  two  side 
chapels  are  sculptured  monuments  of  Turenne  and 
Yauban.  It  is,  altogether,  a  perfect  monument,  and 
adapted  to  its  purpose  with  true  French  taste. 

Oct.  23.  Have  visited,  to-day,  the  Jardin  des 
Plantes,  and  the  Gobelin  manufactory,  and  have  seen 
the  Hotel  de  Ville,  the  Tower  of  St.  Jacques,  the  Place 
du  Chatelet  and  Fontaine  Palmier,  and  the  Palais 
Royal.  The  Jardin  des  Plantes  is  filled  with  plants  and 
animals  from  all  quarters  of  the  globe.  W.e  devoted 
ourselves  to  the  animals.  They  are  admirably  pro 
vided  with  proper  abodes,  each  in  its  own  enclosure 
and  cabin.  The  bears  have  baths,  and  dens,  and 
climbing  poles,  and  the  clumsy  hippopotamus  his 
swimming  bath,  in  which  he  lies,  the  very  picture  of 
lazy,  piggish  luxury.  The  animals  of  the  frigid  and 
torrid  zones  dwell  in  amicable  proximity,  and  the 
beautiful  varieties  of  the  feathered  creation  perch  in 
the  branches  of  the  trees,  or  trip  about  their  yards, 
as  if  conscious  of  their  claims  to  admiration. 

We  intended  to  have  visited  the  Conciergerie,  but 
gave  it  up  after  an  hour  of  the  circumlocution  office. 


WAYSIDE     SKETCHES.  293 

We  presented  ourselves  at  the  office  of  Justice  for 
admission,  and  were  told  that  we  must  obtain  an 
order  from  the  prefect  of  police,  whose  bureau,  how 
ever,  was  in  the  street  directly  behind  the  palace. 

The  bureau  proved  to  be  upon  the  other  side  of  the 
wide  square,  but  we  found  it ;  ascended  to  the  great 
hall,  where  we  were  politely  directed  by  sundry 
officials  to  a  passage  which  led  back,  over  a  long 
bridge,  to  an  office,  evidently  in  the  very  palace  which 
we  had  just  quitted.  Here  we  were  as  politely 
directed  from  room  to  room,  until  we  arrived  at  the 
end  of  possible  directions — the  prefecture.  Here 
we  found  three  dignified  gentlemen  at  a  desk,  who, 
upon  receiving  our  application,  desired  us  to  return 
by  the  way  whence  we  had  come,  to  the  office  of  the 
first  division,  at  the  door  of  "affairs  personnels." 
We  retraced  our  steps,  the  precious  moments  of  a 
limited  hour  slipping  away ;  applied  at  "affairs  per 
sonnels,"  were  directed  to  an  inner  room,  and  still 
another — all  in  the  most  civil  manner.  But  the 
affair  began  to  assume  a  ludicrous  aspect,  and  it  was 
with  difficulty  that  I  could  preserve  the  proper 
gravity  to  repeat  the  question,  which  had  almost  lost 
its  signification.  The  official  of  the  penetralia  sent 
us  on  our  return  by  the  narrow  passage  which  we 
had  already  traversed,  and,  by  the  way,  the  whole 
arrangement  resembled  some  temporary  construction 
in  the  back  yard  of  a  hotel,  rather  than  the  access  to 
the  most  complicated  and  perfect  police  machinery 
in  the  world.  An  attendant  showed  us  a  narrow 


294  WAYSIDE     SKETCHES. 

staircase,  which  we  mounted,  and  reached  another 
set  of  offices,  at  the  innermost  of  which  they  directed 
us  to  return  by  the  same  staircase,  and  another  also, 
into  a  vestibule,  whence  another  long  passage  led 
down  to  the  real  inner  den  of  that  mysterious  ani 
mal — the  police,  guarded  by  an  ante-room.  Here  the 
chief  received  our  application,  and  in  return  assured 
us  that  it  was  impossible  to  issue  the  desired  permis 
sion  until  we  had  made  an  application  to  our  own 
ambassador.  This  was  the  result  of  the  long  pere 
grination,  and  for  what  ?  —  for  permission  to  visit  an 
empty  dungeon,  which  was  directly  below  our  feet 
on  our  first  request  at  the  Hall  of  Justice.  By  this 
time  we  had  arrived  at  the  conclusion  that  neither 
our  patience  nor  our  leisure  would  bear  much  farther 
strain,  so  we  shook  off  the  dust  of  the  prefecture 
from  our  feet,  and  departed. 

On  arriving  at  the  Gobelins  we  found  that  we  had 
made  another  sad  mistake,  in  forgetting  our  pass 
ports,  and  were  peremptorily  denied  entrance ;  but  I 
plume  myself  upon  my  powers  of  persuasion  in  the 
French  language,  inasmuch  as  I  did  at  last  soften  the 
heart  of  the  Cerberus  in  uniform,  and  we  entered. 

The  tapestry  is  of  exceeding  beauty,  the  pieces 
exhibited  being  copies  of  the  best  paintings  of  the 
masters.  Even  Raphael's  Transfiguration  is  exqui 
sitely  copied.  We  saw,  also,  the  work  in  progress. 
The  warp  is  suspended,  the  stout  threads  running 
perpendicularly,  while  the  woof  is  wrought  in  by  the 
workman  sitting  behind  it,  with  the  picture  to  be 


WAYSIDE     SKETCHES.  295 

copied  still  behind  him.  The  outlines  of  the  figures 
are  sketched  upon  the  white  warp.  After  the  trans 
verse  threads  are  introduced,  instead  of  being  beaten 
up  by  a  beam,  they  are  brought  close  by  a  small  flat 
stick,  about  three  inches  wide,  with  teeth  that  pass 
between  the  threads  and  beat  the  woof  down  hard. 

The  work,  when  the  coarse  threads  are  perpen 
dicular,  is  called  haute  lisse,  and  when  horizontal, 
basse  lisse.  The  pieces  now  in  hand  are  for  the 
Tuileries  and  other  French  palaces,  and  it  is  entirely 
a  governmental  work.  The  tapestry  is  wrought 
upon  the  wrong  side  of  the  work,  but  the  carpet 
upon  the  right,  and  the  threads  afterwards  sheared 
closely,  like  velvet.  Among  the  pictures  is  a  very 
fine  portrait  of  the  Emperor,  which  it  took  four 
years  to  finish  —  one  of  the  Empress  is  still  more 
beautiful.  I  could  fancy  that  blindness  might  be 
the  result  of  looking  steadily  at  colors  through  the 
glimmering  lines  of  white  thread. 

Oct.  29.  The.  weather  is  unpropitious  for  lounging, 
but  we  have  not  been  idle.  We  have  driven  about  the 
city,  visited  the  Luxembourg ;  the  Chapel  of  St.  Fer 
dinand  ;  the  Pantheon ;  and  have  seen,  in  passing,  the 
Artesian  well,  which  supplies  water  from  a  bore  six 
teen  hundred  feet  in  depth;  and  the  column  occupy 
ing  the  spot  where  once  stood  the  mysterious  prison 
of  the  Bastile.  And  with  that  sight  rises  the  long 
succession  of  histories  of  undeserved  incarceration, 
of  lettres  du  cachet,  of  incredible  escapes,  of  life 
long  imprisonments  and  nameless  deaths,  and  finally. 


296  WAYSIDE     SKETCHES. 

of  that  overwhelming  mob  that  forced  the  command 
ant  to  surrender  the  keys,  set  the  prisoners  at  large, 
and  razed  the  dreaded  building  to  the  ground. 

We  visited  the  Palace  of  Industry,  which  was  dis- 
appointinglv  meagre;  went  to  the  Pantheon,  which, 
although  it  has  been  converted  into  a  church,  still 
wears  the  temple  air,  and  is  a  noble  edifice. 

The  Chapel  of  St.  Ferdinand  is  erected  upon  the 
spot  where  the  Due  d'Orleans  died,  after  a  fall  from 
his  carriage,  in  1842.  It  is  a  beautiful  monument  — 
a  gem  of  a  chapel,  and  contains  a  fine  effigy  of  the 
duke  in  marble,  executed  by  Triquiti.  Behind  the 
altar  is  the  sacristy,  which  contains  a  large  painting 
representing  the  scene  of  his  death,  with  the  portraits 
of  the  royal  family  present  at  the  time. 

Upon  what  a  slender  thread  hang  the  destinies  of 
nations !  The  restiveness  of  a  pair  of  horses,  in  all 
probability,  changed  the  dynasty  of  the  French 
throne ;  for  the  duke  had  a  strong  hold  upon  the 
affections  of  the  French  people,  and  might  have  suc 
ceeded  his  father  in  peace.  Nevertheless,  the  French 
need  an  iron  hand  at  the  helm,  and  they  have  it  now. 

We  went  to  the  beautiful  palace  of  the  Luxem- 
bouro-;  I  believe  the  most  ancient  of  the  French 

O  ' 

palaces.  It  is  now  used  as  a  senate  house.  The 
halls  are  all  adorned  with  modern  pictures,  of  living 
artists,  in  which  the  two  Napoleons  figure  as  the 
foreground.  The  chief  room,  in  size  and  adornings, 
is  the  throne  room;  a  lofty  and  spacious  saloon, 
gilded  and  decorated  with  elaborate  art. 


WAYSIDE     SKETCHES.  297 

The  Senate  Chamber  is  a  very  handsome  council 
room.  It  has  chairs  of  green  velvet,  ranged  in  a 
semi-circle,  rising  in  rows,  one  above  another;  the 
tribune  of  the  president,  and  the  seats  of  the  minis 
ters  directly  below  it,  occupying  one  side  of  the 
room.  A  small  ante-room  adjoining  is  shown  as 
having  been  used  by  Eobespierre  for  a  prison,  during 
the  time  of  the  Girondins. 

Last  of  all,  and  most  elaborate,  is  the  bed  chamber 
of  Mary  of  Medici,  the  queen  of  Henry  Quatre. 
Upon  the  ceiling  is  a  painting  of  Mary,  by  Eubens, 
and  the  walls  are  covered  with  the  works  of  great 
artists.  It  has  been  kept  in  beautiful  preservation, 
and  the  attendant  said  that  there  had  been  millions 
expended  upon  its  decorations. 

It  is  now  the  place  where  the  civil  contract  is 
signed,  upon  the  occasion  of  the  marriage  of  any 
of  the  senators.  The  gardens  are  beautiful,  but  the 
situation  of  the  pa-lace  is  any  thing  but  desirable. 
We  have  another  French  palace  to  visit  to-morrow, 
but  I  feel  a  little  like  repeating  the  formula  by  which 
the  Grand  Monarque  was  pleased  to  be  addressed  at 
the  morning  reception  of  his  courtiers.  "Sire,  Marly!" 
But  that  scene  of  almost  fabulous  extravagance  has 
sunk  into  desolation  and  oblivion. 
20 


298  WAYSIDE     SKETCHES. 


CHAPTER   XV. 

FRANCE. 

Versailles  —  Pere  la  Chaise  — Havre  — English  Channel. 

I  SCARCELY  know  how  to  begin  a  description  of  a 
day  spent  in  exploring  the  beauties  of  such  a  place 
as  Versailles.  The  many  descriptions  of  the  place 
which  I  have  seen,  have  failed  to  convey  to  my  own 
imagination  any  proper  idea  of  its  magnificence;  and 
any  jottings  of  my  own  can  only  recall  to  myself  the 
pleasure  of  the  day  —  not  by  any  means  to  convey 
any  conception  of  it  to  another.  We  went  by  rail 
through  a  very  pleasing  country,  passing  the  forest 
of  St.  Cloud ;  a  place  of  much  interest  as  a  favorite 
residence  of  the  first  Napoleon,  but  not  at  present 
open  to  the  public,  as  it  is  occupied  as  a  summer 
palace  by  the  present  Emperor. 

The  country  is  more  hilly  than  I  had  supposed ; 
the  railway  ascends  continually,  and  passes  through 
a  number  of  long  tunnels,  Versailles  being  two  hun 
dred  feet  higher  than  Paris.  It  must  be  a  charming 
drive  during  the  early  summer.  It  gave  me  the  first 
real  idea  of  the  compactness  of  population  in  this 
country.  The  whole  route,  except  by  the  pleasure 


WAYSIDE    SKETCHES.  299 

grounds,  leads  through  a   succession  of  towns   and 
villages,  forming  an  almost  continuous  suburb. 

We  arrived  early  at  the  gates,  and  were  fortunate 
in  securing  the  services  of  Marchand,  the  palace 
guide;  a  former  valet  to  Napoleon;  an  old  man  of 
seventy-seven  vigorous  years,  who  has  seen  eleven 
different  governments  in  France.  He  saw  Marie 
Antoinette  queen  in  these  very  grounds,  and,  judging 
from  the  versatility  of  the  French  genius,  he  may 
yet  add  some  dynasties  to  his  present  experience. 

The  old  servant  has  been  a  more  discriminating 
and  profound  observer  of  human  character  and 
events  than  many  a  politician  of  higher  rank,  and 
knew  all  the  points  of  real  lasting  interest  in  the 
palace  and  its  history.  He  aptly  said,  "there  are 
many  fine  cities  in  the  world,  but  one  Versailles. " 

It  is  the  most  spacious  of  royal  abodes,  taking  into 
account  the  grounds,  and  the  smaller  establishments 
of  the  Trianons.  It  is  the  focus  of  seven  wide 
avenues  of  approach,  which  radiate  to  the  palaces  and 
principal  cities  of  the  empire.  We  enter  a  paved 
court  of  great  extent,  around  which  the  palace 
buildings  form  three  sides  of  an  irregular  hollow 
square.  The  middle,  or  main  building  was  erected 
by  Louis  the  Thirteenth,  and  is  distinguished  by  the 
introduction  of  red  stone  or  brick  in  the  fagade. 
Among  the  buildings  of  the  left  wing  is  an  excellent 
exterior  view  of  the  chapel. 

In  the  midst  of  the  court  of  entrance  stands  an 
immense  equestrian  statue  of  Louis  Quatorze,  who 


300  WAYSIDE     SKETCHES. 

completed  the  splendid  edifice,  and  held  his  luxuri 
ous,  almost  oriental  court  here,  during  the  long  years 
in  which  he  lived  to  oppress  the  nation,  and  to  draw 
from  it  the  resources  which  he  lavished  upon  foreign 
wars  and  domestic  extravagance.  The  splendor 
which  so  dazzled  the  world  during  his  reign,  has 
sunk  into  a  darkness  from  which  neither  historian 
nor  poet  dares  longer  attempt  to  extricate  it.  Around 
the  court  are  arranged  busts  of  distinguished  men, 
recently  transferred  from  Paris.  Directly  in  front  of 
the  great  entrance,  and  looking  down  the  long 
avenue  which  leads  to  Paris,  is  the  balcony  upon 
which  Marie  Antoinette  led  her  children,  in  response 
to  the  furious  demand  from  the  mob,  on  the  fatal 
day  of  that  terrible  outburst  And  there,  when  the 
same  mob,  thirsting  for  her  blood,  demanded  that  she 
should  put  away  the  children  whose  presence  was  her 
protection,  she  put  them  firmly  back,  and  stood  alone, 
royally  brave,  in  her  undefended  womanhood ;  until 
even  that  brutal  multitude  was,  for  the  moment,  dis 
armed,  and  reserved  her,  with  a  cruel  forbearance, 
for  a  sadder  fate. 

The  unhappy  Marie,  with  the  sins  of  many  gener 
ations  visited  upon  her  fair  young  head,  was  the  last 
mistress  of  this  wonderful  domain. 

After  the  devastating  fury  of  the  revolution  had 
wrought  its  will,  it  fell  into  neglect  and  desolation ; 
until  Louis  Philippe  restored  its  noble  saloons,  and 
made  of  its  long  galleries  a  museum  of  art,  such  as 
may  well  attract  the  admiration  of  the  world ;  and 


WAYSIDE     SKETCHES."  301 

the  magnificent  palace  and  park  are  now  royally 
kept  for  the  pleasure  of  that  public  which  was,  of 
old,  royally  oppressed. 

As  the  palace  was  not  yet  open,  we  made  our  first 
visit  to  the  pleasure  grounds ;  and  I  can  do  very  little 
towards  describing  them. 

The  combination  of  wide  avenues,  broad  terraces, 
fountains  filled  with  groups  of  statuary,  smooth  lawns, 
closely  clipped  hedges  and  pyramids  of  yew,  artifi 
cial  lakes  and  canals,  grottoes,  copse  and  forest,  is 
something  passing  my  powers  of  description. 

From  the  private  front  of  the  palace,  the  view 
looks  down  a  broad  avenue,  descending  by  stone  steps 
to  a  very  large  fountain,  and,  beyond,  to  another  still 
lower;  and  the  distance  is  bounded  by  the  pretty 
sheet  called  the  Swiss  Water,  shut  in  on  each  side  by 
the  forest. 

The  tall  dark  yews  are  trimmed  in  various  forms, 
chiefly  pyramidal,  and  the  box  forms  a  broad  hedge 
lining  the  stone  parapets  with  a  continuous  arbor. 

At  every  opening  a  new  fountain  presents  itself, 
all  adorned  with  sculptures ;  and  the  fountains  take 
their  name  from  the  groups — such  as  the  Diana 
fountain  —  the  Neptune — the  Latona,  &c. 

The  wide  parterres  were  stripped  of  their  bloom, 
but  the  lawns  were  still  green  and  smooth  as  velvet ; 
and  it  needed  little  effort  of  the  imagination  to  pic 
ture  the  scene  when  the  waters  are  in  full  play,  and 
the  flowers  in  all  their  beauty. 

We   went   through   the  stately  forest,   by   paths 


302  WAYSIDE     SKETCHES. 

thickly  strewn  with  the  brown  and  yellow  leaves  of 
autumn,  to  a  charming  artificial  grotto,  called  Apollo's 
Bath.  It  is  adorned  with  large  statues  of  gods  and 
animals,  and  the  spot  is  as  natural  in  rocks  and 
water  as  a  dell  in  the  mountains  of  Switzerland. 

The  day  was  unpropitious  for  an  out-door  excur 
sion,  but  we  walked  miles  through  the  beautiful 
grounds. 

We  next  visited  the  Grand  Trianon,  a  summer 
palace  built  by  Louis  Quatorze  for  Madame  Montes- 
pan,  and  afterwards  inhabited  by  La  Valliere,  be 
coming  finally  the  possession  of  Madame  Maintenon. 

The  Petit  Trianon,  with  its  Swiss  surroundings, 
built  by  Louis  the  Fifteenth  for  the  Duchess  Dubarry, 
we  had  no  time  to  explore. 

Both  these  abodes,  fit  exponents  of  the  days  of 
the  grand  monarch,  were  given  by  the  better  Louis 
to  Marie  Antoinette;  and  the  Grand  Trianon  was 
one  of  the  homes  of  Napoleon  and  Josephine.  It  is 
an  elegant  dwelling,  adorned  with  frescoes,  paintings, 
sculpture  and  carvings.  It  was  prepared  for  an  ex 
pected  visit  of  Queen  Victoria,  who,  however,  pre 
ferred  St.  Cloud,  and  did  not  occupy  it.  It  still 
remains  as  prepared  for  the  expected  guest. 

The  interest  of  the  Trianon  centered  in  the  apart 
ments  of  Napoleon,  which  remain  precisely  as  occu 
pied  by  him — his  study,  with  the  very  table  and 
chair  of  his  habitual  use,  unchanged — his  council 
room  and  bed  room. 

In  the  council  room  is  a  table  covered  with  a  faded 


WAYSIDE     SKETCHES.  303 

velvet  cloth,  upon  which  were  signed  the  articles  of 
divorce,  which  broke  the  heart  of  Josephine,  the  de 
voted  wife  and  gracious  queen,  and  dimmed  the  star 
of  Napoleon. 

It  is  eminently  suggestive  to  reflect  upon  this  act 
of  bitter  injustice  and  its  motive,  under  a  roof  pro 
tected  and  embellished  by  the  royal  grandson  of 
Josephine. 

From  the  Trianon  we  proceeded  to  the  stables,  to 
see  the  state  carriages,  which  our  guide  assured  us 
are  such  as  are  to  be  seen  no  where  else  in  the  world. 
The  great  state  carriage  was  built  for  the  coronation 
of  Charles  the  Tenth.  It  is  a  most  superb  affair,  sur 
mounted  by  a  crown.  The  interior  panels  are  exqui 
sitely  painted,  and  the  very  hammercloth  is  a  magnifi 
cent  embroidery  of  massive  gold.  There  was  also 
the  coronation  carriage  of  the  first  ISTapoleon,  and  the 
carriage  built  for  the  christening  of  the  Prince  Impe 
rial  ;  in  all  seven  carriages  of  elaborate  splendor,  with 
sedan  chairs  of  centuries  ago  —  one  built  for  Marie 
Antoinette  —  a  sledge  hollowed  out  of  a  panther  for 
Madame  Montespan,  and  a  goat  carriage,  presented 
to  the  present  prince  by  the  Sultan. 

The  spotless  oaken  floor  was  polished  to  the  top  of 
its  bent  for  the  visit  of  the  grand  equerry,  which  was 
momentarily  expected.  Indeed,  the  trial  of  the  day 
lay  in  these  polished  floors,  which  made  the  long 
miles  of  traverse  as  difficult  and  fatiguing  as  if  we 
had  been  treading  upon  ice. 

We  reached   the  palace  at  last.     Its  very  name 


304  WA  YSIDE     SKETCHES. 

evokes  the  shades  of  that  half  century,  which  was 
truly  the  brilliant  cycle  of  European  history.  Not 
only  in  France,  but  in  Great  Britain,  were  the  great 
lights  of  literature,  of  oratory,  of  pulpit  eloquence, 
of  statesmanship  and  martial  glory,  burning  in  such 
a  constellation  of  splendor  as  has  never  risen  upon 
the  horizon,  before  nor  since. 

If  the  walls  of  the  old  palace  could  speak,  what 
tales  could  they  relate,  of  luxury,  surpassing  Persian 
magnificence,  of  beauty,  of  wit,  of  intrigue,  of 
tyranny.  The  centre  of  the  palace  contains  the 
royal  apartments,  and  the  wings  the  museum  of 
paintings  and  sculpture.  The  King's  suites  of  rooms 
are  on  the  right,  the  Queen's  on  the  left. 

The  apartments  of  Louis  the  Fourteenth  remain, 
in  all  respects  except  the  furniture,  as  when  he 
inhabited  them.  Some  fine  pieces  of  furniture  re 
main —  the  bed  upon  which  he  died,  some  clocks, 
two  entresols,  and  one  or  two  tables ;  one  of  the  last 
covered  with  the  same  velvet  cloth  in  use  during  the 
King's  lifetime.  The  bed  is  in  a  room  directly  upon 
the  balcony  of  the  court  from  which  the  death  of  the 
monarch  was  proclaimed  as  soon  as  the  breath  had 
left  his  worn  out  body,  and  the  plaudits  with  which 
the  succeeding  government  was  hailed,  testifies  to  the 
character  of  French  loyalty.  No  silent  sorrow,  no 
wail  of  grief,  bespoke  a  nation's  mourning  for  one 
whose  reign  had  exceeded  the  length  of  most  of 
their  lives ;  and  yet  no  eastern  monarch  ever  received 
more  prostrate  servility,  more  cringing  adulation. 


WAYSIDE     SKETCHES.  305     * 

This  bed  room  is  the  most  gorgeous  apartment  of 
the  palace.  The  ceilings  are  exquisitely  painted, 
carved  and  gilded,  and  the  paintings  are  of  great 
beauty.  Next  in  splendor  is  the  bed  room  of  the 
Queen;  similar  in  adorning,  and,  to  my  taste,  more 
beautiful.  The  ante-room  of  the  King's  bed  chamber 
is  a  long,  elegant  room,  called  from  the  shape  of  the 
window  in  both  ends,  the  gallery  of  the  bull's  eye. 
This  room  is  famous.  In  it  were  gathered  the  wit, 
the  beauty,  the  finesse,  the  ambition,  and  the  greed 
of  such  a  court  as  the  world  has  seldom  seen.  Here 
the  vain  King  delighted  to  keep  in  attendance  a 
crowd  of  flatterers,  and  no  servility  was  too  cringing, 
no  adulation  too  gross  to  please  his  morbid  palate. 

The  magnificence  of  all  these  private  apartments 
of  ancient  royalty  can  scarcely  be  described.  Precious 
stones,  curious  and  costly  works  of  art,  paintings 
beyond  price,  rare  tapestries,  time-pieces  of  elaborate 
workmanship,  give  one  an  idea  of  what  these  rooms 
must  have  been  when  they  were  furnished  with  a 
gorgeousness  appropriate  to  the  palace  and  its  mas 
ters.  The  palace  is  filled  with  portraits  of  the 
Bourbons,  especially  of  the  family,  from  Louis  the 
Thirteenth  down ;  of  the  Queens  of  the  Fifteenth  and 
Eighteenth  Louis  —  beautiful  women  both  —  to  say 
nothing  of  the  still  more  beautiful  favorites  of  the 
court.  We  passed,  during  the  day,  through  two 
hundred  and  sixty  rooms,  and  eight  galleries. 

The  history  of  France,  from  Clovis  down,  is  gar 
nered  up  in  the  pictures  and  sculptures  of  Versailles ; 


306  WAYSIDE     SKETCHES. 

and  it  is  pleasant  to  rest  the  mind  and  eye  upon  his 
torical  paintings  and  sweet,  natural  landscapes,  after 
the  weariness  of  Holy  Families  and  St.  Sebastians. 

The  galleries  are  long  arcades  of  elegant  architec 
ture,  lined  with  pictures  of  great  merit  and  interest, 
depicting  the  victories,  of  which  France  has  many  to 
record.  The  brilliant  exploits  of  the  sixteenth  and 
seventeenth  centuries,  and  the  splendid  achievements 
of  the  eighteenth,  are  here  portrayed,  with  a  perfection 
of  art  well  calculated  to  stir  the  enthusiasm  of  a 
French  heart,  since  it  rouses  that  of  uninterested 
foreigners. 

Horace  Yernet  has  immortalized  himself  in  the 
power  with  which  he  has  rendered  the  splendid  history 
of  France.  He  is  one  of  the  few  painters  who 
possess  the  power  of  painting  the  human  figure  in  all 
its  spirit,  and  the  animal  in  its  perfection. 

There  is  one  picture,  covering  the  entire  side  of 
one  gallery,  which  alone  should  make  any  man 
famous.  It  represents  the  surprise  of  the  camp  of 
Abdul  Kadir  by  the  French  troops.  In  the  same 
room  is  a  splendid  picture  of  Napoleon  liberating 
Abdul  Kadir  —  the  latter  a  grand  figure  of  a  man. 
Besides  the  pictures  of  these  battles,  we  find  portraits 
of  all  the  generals  who  have  distinguished  them 
selves,  especially  those  who  rose  during  the  republic 
and  the  first  empire.  The  Napoleonic  presence  runs 
like  a  thread  through  all  these  scenes.  The  historic 
pictures  of  which  I  speak  are  a  study  for  a  month  ; 
there  are  many  charming  landscapes  interspersed, 


WAYSIDE     SKETCHES.  307 

which  we  had  no  time  properly  to  enjoy.  These 
galleries  owe  their  renovation  to  the  munificence  of 
Louis  Philippe,  than  whom  there  could  be  no  greater 
contrast  to  the  great  Louis.  He  laid  no  imposition 
upon  the  people  for  the  embellishment  of  public 
buildings,  but  out  of  his  private  purse  he  devoted 
immense  sums  for  the  restoring  and  beautifying 
of  this  palace.  One  of  the  finest  galleries,  that 
of  Battles,  which  bears  also  the  name  of  Louis 
Philippe,  is  most  magnificent.  One  of  the  royal 
apartments  of  imposing  elegance,  is  the  ball  room, 
with  a  small  saloon  at  either  end,  called  respectively 
the  saloons  of  War  and  Peace.  They  are  beautifully 
painted  in  frescoes  appropriate  to  their  titles.  In 
one  of  them  Marchand  pointed  to  a  corner  by  a 
window,  saying  that  there  Madame  Montespan  lost 
at  play  four  million  of  francs  in  one  night.  From 
such  seeds  as  these  sprang  the  deadly  Upas  whose 
poisoned  branches  overshadowed  the  empire  for 
many  years,  and  whose  roots  still  lurk  in  the  soil, 
watered  to  fruitfulness  by  the  blood  and  tears  of  half 
a  century. 

Another  splendid  hall,  called  the  Glazed,  is  lined 
on  both  sides  with  mirrors  set  like  windows,  which 
reduplicate  the  objects  of  the  room,  giving  it  the 
appearance  of  a  triple  hall  of  immense  size.  It  is 
lighted  by  a  skylight,  stretching  the  entire  length  of 
the  gallery.  The  corridors  and  staircases  correspond 
in  beauty  and  art  with  the  saloons  and  galleries. 

The  Salle  de  Spectacle,  a  theatre  for  royalty  alone, 


308  WAYSIDE     SKETCHES. 

a  gem  set  in  the  midst  of  these  gorgeous  galleries, 
is  capable  of  holding  two  thousand  spectators.  It  is 
semi-circular  in  form ;  the  seats  are  cushioned  with 
crimson  velvet,  and  rise  in  gilded  galleries,  lined  with 
mirrors,  which  reflect  the  magnificent  lustres  with 
which  the  saloon  is  hung. 

Among  the  spectacles  which  I  should  like  to  see, 
would  be  this  exquisite  place  of  display  in  full 
brilliancy  of  light,  and  scenery,  and  music,  and  rank 
and  beauty. 

The  chapels,  both  of  the  palace  and  the  Trianon, 
are  beautiful — the  latter  far  the  prettiest.  I  think  it 
was  introduced  in  the  time  of  Madame  Maintenon. 
This  deserted  palace  employs  the  labor  of  one  hundred 
and  eighty  attendants ;  to  a  utilitarian  eye  it  seems 
too  great  a  loss  to  royalty,  to  lay  out  of  its  dwellings 
the  palace  which,  of  all  its  possessions,  is  most  befit 
ting  its  abode. 

All  this  conveys  not  even  a  meagre  idea  of  the 
magnificence  of  this  vast  edifice  —  this  one  Versailles, 
which  crowns  the  long  splendor  of  royal  dwellings 
with  a  diadem  of  riches  which  scarcely  belongs  to  the 
home  of  any  other  kings  in  the  world. 

Oct.  31.  Visited  Pere  la  Chaise,  which,  apart  from 
the  fact  of  its  having  been  the  first  city  cemetery  be 
yond  the  churchyard  burial  places  in  the  midst  of  the 
population,  and  its  affording  a  noble  view  of  Paris, 
possesses  less  interest  than  most  cemeteries.  The 
largest  and  most  elaborate  of  the  monuments  is  that 
of  the  Russian  princess  Demidoff;  the  one  most 


WAYSIDE     SKETCHES.  309 

worthy  of  a  pilgrimage  is  the  small  temple,  where  lie 
side  by  side,  unworthy  conjunction,  the  effigies  of 
Abelard  and  the  unhappy  Heloi'se. 

Most  of  the  monuments  consist  of  small  chapels, 
like  boxes,  in  close  contiguity,  within  which  are  hung 
garlands  of  immortelles,  and  sometimes  of  beads. 
Sometimes  beautiful  natural  flowers  stand  in  pots 
upon  the  little  altar,  and  more  frequently  bouquets 
of  artificial  flowers  supply  their  place.  The  French 
taste  is,  for  many  reasons,  more  successful  in  behalf 
of  the  living  than  of  the  dead,  and  the  cemetery  is 
a  stiff  one. 

The  most  touching  of  all  the  resting  places,  to  me, 
was  a  small  plot,  enclosed  by  an  iron  railing,  with  a 
hedge  —  without  monument  or  inscription.  By  care 
ful  inspection  one  finds,  rudely  scratched  upon  the 
gate,  as  if  by  the  point  of  a  nail — Ney.  It  is  a  text 
for  a  volume  of  sermons. 

We  looked  into  the  Jews'  burial  ground,  which 
seems  beautifully  kept,  with  a  quiet,  un-Frenchy 
seclusion — the  monument  of  Rachel  is  near  its 
entrance.  We  saw  the  tombs  of  various  French 
authors,  and  the  statue  of  Casimir  Perier,  but  found 
an  hour  or  two  in  the  streets  of  the  necropolis  a 
sufficient  type  of  the  whole. 

Called  at  the  American  Minister's,  and  for  the 
succeeding  wet  days  did  little  beyond  the  shop 
ping,  which  seems  here  to  be  never  at  an  end. 
It.  is  a  beautiful,  gay,  well  governed  city,  and  its 
streets  are  charming;  but  Paris  has  taken  no 


310  WAYSIDE     SKETCHES. 

hold  upon  my  affections — not  so  much  as  by  a  hair's 
breadth. 

Nov.  4.  We  came  down  to  Normandy  through  a 
beautiful  undulating  country,  much  finer  and  more 
picturesque  than  the  route  from  Chambery.  The 
cultivation  seems  to  be  conducted  with  great  care, 
but  the  soil  does  not  look  fertile.  The  whole  route 
was  a  succession  of  field  and  forest,  village,  chateau, 
park,  church  and  tower.  The  ancient  city  of  Eouen 
lies  beside  the  way,  with  two  grand  old  edifices 
towering  above  it;  the  cathedral,  with  a  still  un 
finished  spire,  and  the  still  more  beautiful  church  of 
St.  Ouen.  '  , 

We  enjoyed  the  day  at  Havre  with  kind  welcoming 
friends  in  the  family  of  our  Consul,  and  went  on 
board  the  small  black  steamer  at  ten. 

As  we  groped  our  dark  way  down  the  steep  ladder 
to  the  boat,  whose  smoke  pipe  was  just  upon  a  level 
with  the  pier,  I  cogitated  upon  what  would  be  the 
appearance  of  things  at  low  tide  if  this  were  sup 
posed  to  be  high.  It  turned  out  that  the  advertise 
ment  was  mistaken  in  the  hour,  and  we  did  not  get 
out  to  sea  until  two  in  the  morning.  The  passage 
was  excessively  rough  —  the  gale  which  had  done  so 
much  damage  along  the  coast  not  having  blown 
itself  out.  However,  we  learned  that  the  shorter 
passages  had  been  much  worse,  even  perilous.  We 
were  all  glad  to  come  under  the  lee  of  the  Isle  of 
Wight,  and  welcomed  the  calm  of  Southampton 
water  like  mariners  of  the  long  voyage.  We  saw 


WAYSIDE     SKETCHES.  311 

Osborne  house  in  the  distance,  and  Her  Majesty's 
yacht  off  Cowes.  The  country  must  be  very  charm 
ing  ;  the  shore  is  bold  and  wooded,  and  the  verdure 
remarkable  for  the  season.  We  passed  Calshott 
Castle,  at  present  a  rendezvous  for  the  coast  guard ; 
saw  Netley  Abbey,  and  a  fine  hospital  on  the 
mainland. 

Landed  at  one  o'clock,  and  at  three  set  off  for 
London,  through  a  country  such  as  is  to  be  found  no 
where  except  in  England. 

It  was  pleasant  to  find  that  our  former  admiration 
of  the  country  was  not  due  merely  to  the  pleasure  of 
novelty,  but  that  it  has  suffered  no  diminution  after 
the  majesty  of  Switzerland  and  the  softness  of 
Italy.  There  is  nothing  else  like  it.  The  natural 
beauty  of  the  pretty  (not  grand)  scenery  is  carefully 
preserved,  and  superadded  is  a  cultivation  which 
seems  to  have  reached  perfection. 

The  green  waves  of  land  roll  back  upon  forests 
almost  as  green;  the  tilled  fields,  bordered  by 
hedges,  are  laid  down  in  lines  so  carefully  and  finely 
wrought  as  to  become  of  themselves  beautiful ;  the 
great  flocks  of  sheep,  which  always  enliven  English 
scenery,  are  spread  over  the  downs ;  and  here  and 
there  cluster  the  picturesque  villages,  with  the  spires 
of  edifices  worthy  the  name  of  church ;  and  quiet, 
snug  farm  houses,  which  wear  the  warm,  cheerful 
air  of  home,  are  scattered  abroad  upon  the  soft 
slopes. 

Nor  is  the  interest  of  antiquity  wanting.     Yener- 


312  WAYSIDE     SKETCHES. 

able  ruins,  wrecks  from  the  dim  sea  of  the  past, 
still  cling  to  the  shores  of  the  present,  and  tell  of 
civilization,  and  art,  and  science,  in  the  ages  when 
the  wild  Indian  was  the  sole  monarch  of  our  wilds. 
At  last  we  are  in  London. 


WAYSIDE     SKETCHES.  313 


CHAPTER    XVI. 

! 
ENGLAND. 

London  —  Madame  Tussaud  —  National  Gallery  —  Houses  of  Parliament  — 
Courts  —  St.  Thomas,  Chartreux  —  Lord  Mayor's  Day — Hampton  Court  — 
Sydenham  Palace  —  Zoological  Gardens  —  Thames  River —  Tunnel  —  Christ's 
Hospital  —  Westminster  Abbey. 

Nov.  6.  Our  voyage  of  discovery  in  the  great 
city  has  scarcely  begun ;  but  by  way  of  commencing 
at  one  end  or  the  other  of  a  climax,  we  have  been  to 
Madame  Tussaud's.  An  exhibition  of  wax- work  has 
always  seemed  to  me  one  of  the  very  last  sources  of 
attraction,  but  Madame  Tussaud  has  proved  herself  a 
real  artist,  and  would,  I  doubt  not,  have  managed 
the  clay  of  the  studio  with  great  skill.  It  is  truly  a 
wonder  in  its  way,  to  see  the  power  with  which  she 
has  rendered  the  lifelike  expression  of  face  and 
figure,  especially  in  the  eye,  the  feature  which,  more 
than  all  the  rest,  would  seem  difficult  to  imitate. 

Her  rooms  are  filled  with  the  celebrities  of  the  past 
century  ;  the  best  of  all  is  the  Iron  Duke  as  he  lay 
in*  state,  which  one  can  scarcely  realize  not  to  be 
actual  life,  or  rather  actual  death.  It  has  a  reality 
much  more  impressive  than  sculpture. 

The  most  amusing  feature  of  the  rooms  is   the 
21 


314  WAYSIDE     SKETCHES. 

figure  of  Cobbett,  in  Quaker  costume,  seated  upon 
one  of  the  benches,  snuff-box  in  hand,  and  spectacles 
on  nose.  He  turns  his  head  occasionally,  with  an 
intelligent  scrutiny  of  the  objects  around  him,  and  I 
believe  that  it  is  no  uncommon  thing  for  people  to 
tbeg  pardon  of  the  old  gentleman  for  brushing  too 
near  his  person.  Madame  Tussaud's  successor  has 
not  inherited  her  skill ;  the  recent  figures  are  quite 
imperfect,  especially  the  group  of  Americans,  who 
would  pass  equally  well  for  any  other  characters  that 
might  be  attributed  to  them. 

O 

Nov.  7.  Have  been  to  the  National  Gallery,  to 
the  Houses  of  Parliament,  and  various  courts. 

In  the  National  Gallery  are  works  of  most  of  the 
masters,  but  one  should  see  this  gallery  before  going 
to  Italy,  in  order  to  enjoy  it.  The  two  best  pictures 
that  we  have  seen,  by  Murillo,  are  here ;  a  St.  John 
and  lamb,  which  is  a  picture  of  exceeding  beauty, 
and  a  Holy  Family,  in  which  the  infant  Saviour 
satisfies  one's  conceptions  of  what  such  a  face  should 
be,  without  a  fault. 

Another  gem,  which  surpasses  all  pictures  of  the 
same  subject,  is  Corregio's  Ecce  Homo.  The  great 
Ecce  Homo  of  Guido  is  here,  but  I  think  no  one 
could  fail  to  feel  the  great  superiority  of  the  former. 
Indeed,  among  all  attempts  to  embody  the  divine 
spirit,  shining  through  human  sorrow  and  suffering, 
it  stands,  in  my  judgment,  pre-eminent. 

There  are  some  charming  pictures  by  Turner — espe 
cially  two  landscapes,  which  by  his  own  desire,  hang 


WAYSIDE     SKETCHES.  315 

beside  two  similar  ones  of  Claude  Lorraine ;  they  are 
four  pictures  of  restful  beauty.  But  it  seems  to  m  e 
a  mistake  to  group  such  a  number  of  pictures  by  one 
artist,  all  in  precisely  the  same  style.  They  are  so 
often  repeated  that  one  gets  sated  with  hazy  atmos 
phere —  which,  I  believe,  is  quite  heterodox  to  say 
in  England. 

Rain,  Speed  and  Steam,  is  exactly  calculated  to 
exhibit  Turner's  peculiar  power.  I  am  glad  to  think 
that  the  indistinctness  of  all  these  pictures  is  owing 
to  the  want  of  durability  in  the  coloring;  Tor  the 
engravings  from  them  are  very  charming. 

The  Houses  of  Parliament  are  in  the  old  Palace 
of  Westminster,  and  have  the  quiet,  stately  magnifi 
cence  of  old  English  architecture.  But  their  great 
interest  lies  in  the  crowd  of  associations  which  throng 
these  ancient  halls.  When  the  liveried  guardians  of 
such  places  as  these  take  the  customary  fee  of 
entrance,  they  little  imagine  what  trains  of  dignitaries 
and  notables  enter  with  the  silent  visitor. 

The  great  state  trials,  the  royal  pageants,  the  im 
portant  councils,  the  struggles  and  the  decisions  of 
ages,  are  invisibly  inscribed  upon  these  lofty  walls, 
and  the  imagination  of  the  beholder  supplies  the 
warmth,  which  brings  the  mystic  characters  to  light. 
We  took  a  peep  at  the  four  Courts  in  session,  one  of 
which  was  the  Court  of  Queen's  Bench,  and  one  the 
Nisi  Prius.  We  saw  that,  of  which  every  one  has 
read,  the  assembly  of  the  law  in  gown  and  wig.  The 
former  is  a  very  decorous  garb  for  a  court  of  dignity, 


316  WAYSIDE     SKETCHES. 

but  the  wig  is  nothing  less  than  a  deformity.  It  is  a 
close  cap  of  stiff  gray  horse  hair  curls ;  and  I  fancy 
it  would  be  difficult  to  recognize  our  familiar  ac 
quaintances  of  the  legal  profession,  in  such  guise. 

The  sittings  were  characterized  by  a  quiet,  digni 
fied  courtesy,  but  I  should  think  they  would  some 
times  lack  the  interest  of  animation.  There  is  cer 
tainly  one  advantage  to  be  gained  by  the  habit  of 
discountenancing  declamation  —  if  one  may  not  de 
claim,  he  will  not  be  likely  to  make  .many  efforts  at 
speechifying  unless  he  has  something  to  say. 

We  saw  the  Lord  Chief  Justice,  Sir  Alexander 
Cockburn,  and  a  number  of  judges,  who  did  not  need 
the  judicial  robes  to  give  them  dignity. 

The  House  of  Lords  is  a  small  room,  richly  fur 
nished  ;  and  the  House  of  Commons  surprised  us  by 
its  lack  of  size.  When  one  reads  of  the  Houses  of 
Lords  and  Commons,  he  unconsciously  conceives  an 
idea  of  vastness  proportioned  to  the  importance  of 
the  assembly.  . 

It  seemed  to  me  a  worthy  juxtaposition,  that  the 
halls  in  which  the  great  living  men  of  England  strive 
for  the  great  rights  of  the  nation,  should  stand  hard 
by  the  resting-place  of  England's  greatest  dead. 

Nov.  8.  Have  been  to  St.  Thomas,  Chartreux, 
to  hear  one  of  my  favorite  writers,  Dean  Trench  — 
now  newly  appointed  Archbishop  of  Dublin  —  a 
worthy  successor  of  that  distinguished  man,  Arch 
bishop  Whately.  By  law  of  custom,  the  dean  of 
Westminster  succeeds  to  the  see  of  Dublin. 


WAYSIDE     SKETCHES.  317 

In  the  afternoon  we  went  to  St.  Paul's,  to  hear 
Archdeacon  Hale.  I  liked  them  both  very  much ; 
it  was  a  pleasure  to  hear  real  thinkers  preach  once 
more.  I  liked  the  intonation  less  than  ever,  and  fear 
that  I  should  never  learn  to  pray  in  cathedral  service. 
I  was  struck  with  one  idea  at  St.  Thomas'.  It  is  a 
very  common  complaint  among  clergymen  at  home 
that  there  seems  to  be  no  way  of  securing  the  atten 
tion  of  children  in  general  during  church  service. 
This  was  accomplished  here  by  making  the  children 
the  most  active  assistants  in  the  service.  They  occu 
pied  the  entire  organ  loft,  and  led  both  chants  and 
responses  audibly  and  reverently.  The  proper  ob 
servance  of  the  entire  service  by  the  whole  body  of 
worshippers  is  very  marked,  and  might  be  profitably 
imitated  by  our  own  people.  - 

There  is  a  manliness  in  the  way  in  which  English 
men  show  respect  to  public  worship,  which  impresses 
us  wherever  we  go — both  in  England  and  abroad. 
They  go  to  church  as  a  matter  of  course,  and  read, 
and  sing,  and  pray,  and  listen  with  an  earnestness 
and  decorum,  which,  even  if  it  have  no  deeper  root 
than  a  sense  of  propriety,  cannot  fail  to  influence  the 
character  for  good,  in  some  wise. 

Nov.  9.  This,  the  Lord  Mayor's  day,  is  the 
Prince  of  Wales'  birthday  as  well.  The  new  Lord 
Mayor  goes  in  state  to  be  sworn  at  Westminster,  and 
afterwards  makes  a  grand  progress  through  the  city ; 
while  the  day  is  closed  with  an  immense  dinner  at 
the  Guildhall,  which  is  just  at  the  foot  of  our  street. 


318  WAYSIDE    SKETCHES. 

It  is  a  general  holiday,  and  we  had  a  fine  opportunity 
of  seeing  an  English  crowd,  which,  if  it  differed  at 
all  from  the  same  affair  in  America,  did  so  to  its 
own  disadvantage.  It  was  coarser,  poorer,  more 
quarrelsome  than  the  masses  that  I  have  seen  await 
ing  a  spectacle  at  home. 

The  procession  passed  us  in  the  afternoon.  It  was 
not  much  of  a  display.  The  troops  of  the  city  were 
represented  only  by  their  bands ;  the  main  feature  of 
interest  being  a  small  band  of  Knights,  in  the  armor 
of  different  periods.  The  sheriffs  were  arrayed  in 
furred  robes,  and  the  servants  in  the  gaudiest  of 
gilded  trappings.  The  day  was  chill  for  the  long 
white  silk  stockings  of  the  coachmen  and  outriders ; 
it  is  to  be  hoped  that  they  have  learned  to  enjoy  it, 
and  to  fancy  that  fashion  supplies  the  lack  of  com 
fort.  The  Mayor's  carriage  is  a  cumbrous,  rather 
stately  machine,  apparently  of  bronze,  drawn  by  six 
gaily  caparisoned  horses  with  postillions.  The  new 
Mayor  was  attended  by  his  own  clergyman  and  two 
mace  bearers.  As  it  is  strictly  a  city  display,  there 
was  no  representative  of  the  throne  in  the  procession, 
which  was,  in  itself,  not  much  of  an  affair. 

In  the  evening,  there  were  elaborate  illuminations 
at  the  West  end  in  honor  of  the  Prince.  Our  street 
was  barricaded  to  prevent  the  passage  of  any  other 
carriages  than  those  conveying  the  guests  to  the 
Guildhall ;  and  all  night  the  police  were  busied  in 
keeping  the  arriving  and  departing  lines  in  proper 
order,  and  in  summoning  carriages.  How  tedious  the 


WAYSIDE    SKETCHES.  319 

banquet  must  have  been  can  be  imagined  from  the 
fact  that  the  arrivals  began  before  even  this  early 
twilight,  and  it  was  not  all  over  before  four  in  the 
morning. 

Nov.  10.  Hampton  Court.  Went  by  rail  to  Hamp 
ton.  This  is  a  palace  built  by  Cardinal  Wolsey,  and 
afterwards  absorbed  by  his  royal  master.  It  was  a 
royal  residence  during  many  reigns,  and  the  favorite 
abode  of  William  and  Mary.  During  their  reign 
the  buildings  were  reduced  in  number,  and  a  line  of 
grounds,  once  occupied  by  a  wing  of  the  palace,  was 
planted  with  shrubs,  and  trained  into  a  long  arbor, 
called  Queen  Mary's  Walk.  The  last  kingly  occu 
pants  of  the  Palace  were  George  the  Second  and  his 
family.  At  the  present  time  the  upper  stories  are 
inhabited  by  the  remnant  of  several  noble  families, 
who  have  been  reduced  in  estate,  and  are  here  pro 
vided  with  home  and  attendance  by  the  Queen.  One 
could  bear  some  loss  of  fortune  with  tolerable  equa 
nimity,  if  it  were  compensated  by  the  privileges  of 
such  a  charming  abode. 

The  palace  is  built  around  a  large  court,  and  fronts 
upon  the  most  lovely  grounds,  garden  and  park,  a 
sweet,  perfect  picture,  in  which  the  repetition  of  lawn, 
tree,  shrub,  flower,  walk,  forest,  gives  very  little  idea 
of  the  quiet,  picturesque  beauty  that  characterizes 
this  charming  (Jomain. 

The  buildings  are  massive  and  rather  lov,  but  very 
extensive.  The  Hall,  a  guard  room  which  forms  the 
first  of  the  long  suite  of  state  apartments,  is  adorned 


320  WAYSIDE     SKETCHES. 

with  arms  of  all  descriptions,  arranged  in  many  curious 
figures.  They  represent  the  mode  of  warfare  of  almost 
all  ages.  The  arrangement  belongs  to  the  time  of 
George  the  Second,  and  was  copied  in  the  similar 
disposition  of  weapons  in  the  Tower.  The  room  is 
wainscoted  with  oak,  and  the  old  oaken  floors  are 
every  where  uncarpeted.  The  pictures  of  the  guard 
room  are  all  portraits  of  admirals,  or  representations 
of  naval  engagements. 

From  the  guard  room  there  leads  out  a  long  suc 
cession  of  halls,  saloons,  bed  rooms,  banqueting 
rooms,  galleries  and  private  apartments,  such  as  I 
cannot  particularize.  They  all  looked  upon  some 
charming  view  of  park,  forest,  or  garden,  still  green 
and  fresh  with  the  tender  verdure  which  we  connect 
only  with  the  idea  of  spring.  This  is  one  of  the 
perpetual  charms  of  England,  and  they  say  that 
even  in  winter  the  fields  retain  this  beauty. 

The  long  ranges  of  apartments  are  filled  with 
pictures,  many  by  eminent  English  painters.  The 
portraits  by  Sir  Godfrey  Kneller  and  Sir  Peter 
Lely,  are  very  beautiful,  which  is  undoubtedly 
owing,  in  part,  to  the  wonderful  specimens  of  beauty 
that  were  the  subjects  of  their  pencil,  and  which  it 
would  seem,  should  have  inspired  even  ordinary 
fingers. 

There  are  some  fine  pictures  by  Gainsborough; 
one  in  particular,  a  picture  of  Col.  St.  Leger,  is  ex 
tremely  beautiful.  There  are  several  fine  pictures  by 
West ;  several  of  Titian,  among  which  a  Lucretia  is 


WAYSIDE     SKETCHES.  321 

one  of  his  best  figures.  Almost  all  the  Italian  artists 
are  represented,  and  there  are  some  works  of  Van 
dyke.  Two  of  the  most  pleasing  pictures  are  by  Den- 
ner — two  heads,  representing  Youth  and  Age,  in 
which  the  beauty  of  expression  is  combined  with  ex 
quisite  coloring  in  no  ordinary  degree.  Here,  too,  are 
the  famous  cartoons,  or  paintings  upon  paper,  by  Ra 
phael —  magnificent  pictures  of  course.  They  are 
upon  the  death  of  Ananias ;  Elymas  the  Sorcerer ; 
Peter  and  John  at  the  Beautiful  Gate ;  the  Miraculous 
Draught  of  Fishes ;  Paul  and  Barnabas  at  Lystra ; 
Paul  Preaching  at  Athens ;  and,  most  beautiful  of 
all,  Christ's  Charge  to  Peter. 

These  cartoons  line  the  walls  of  a  large  hall,  built 
on  purpose  for  their  reception.  It  is  difficult  to  do 
justice  to  the  paintings  at  Hampton  Court,  for  the  out 
door  picture  from  every  window  is  too  enticing  for  a 
careful  attention  to  art  within. 

From  the  palace  we  went  to  the  gardens  to  see  the 
immense  grape  vine  which  forms  a  notable  attraction 
to  the  grounds.  This  vine,  ninety-seven  years  old, 
measures  thirty-six  inches  round  its  stem;  and  its 
branches,  in  full  bearing,  cover  an  area  of  seventy  by 
thirty  feet  The  weight  of  the  fruit,  now  hanging  in 
tempting  purple  clusters  is  about  eight  hundred 
pounds.  The  grapes  are  cut  for  Buckingham  palace 
after  the  other  graperies  are  exhausted,  and  therefore 
are  allowed  to  hang  until  January. 

Such  places  as  Hampton  Court  bridge  over  the 
mighty  chasms  of  time,  and  link  the  present  with  the 


322  WAYSIDE    SKETCHES. 

past  in  such  wise  that  history  ceases  to  seem  the 
drama  which  it  is  wont  to  appear,  and  claims  the 
sympathies  of  present  actuality.  To  tread  the  very 
courts  which  the  ambitious  cardinal  trod ;  which 
the  monarch,  who  lives  more  for  us  in  Shakspeare 
than  in  our  real  faith,  adorned  for  his  beautiful 
favorite,  impresses  one  with  a  conception  of  the  six 
teenth  century  which  no  books  can  give. 

The  foggy  weather,  which  so  circumscribes  the 
view  at  this  season,  deprives  us  of  the  pleasure  of 
seeing  the  far-famed  scenery  of  Richmond. 

Nov.  11.  It  was  with  no  especial  anticipations  of 
pleasure  that  I  set  out  for  Sydenham.  Every  one 
has  said,  "  You  must  by  all  means  goto  Sydenham/' 
but  I  fancied  it  to  be  much  the  same  thing  as  our  own 
Crystal  Palace,  or  that  at  Paris,  which  had  proved 
disappointing ;  and  we  have  hitherto  gone  upon  the 
Drinciple,  in  our  sight-seeing,  not  to  expend  our 
precious  time  upon  things  of  which  we  have  a  fair 
type  at  home.  We  were  therefore  little  prepared  for 
the  beauty  of  the  aarial  structure,  or  the  still  more 
charming  attractions  of  the  grounds. 

If  I  remember  rightly,  the  extent  of  the  palace  is 
sixteen  hundred  by  three  hundred  feet,  and  the 
grounds  enclose  two  hundred  acres,  with  just  the 
variety  of  undulation  sufficient  to  double  the  apparent 
extent. 

There- are  a  few  pleasing  pictures  in  the  gallery, 
and  casts  from  all  the  greatest  sculptures  of  Italy, 
but  at  present  the  best  part  of  the  exhibition  is  to  be 


WAYSIDE     SKETCHES.  323 

found  among  the  tropical  plants  and  birds,  which  are 
numerous  and  comprehensive,  being  natives  of  all 
the  hot  countries  of  the  earth.  Conspicuous  in  the 
wing  appropriated  to  them,  is  the  gigantic  tree  from 
California,  whose  rings  mark  an  age  of  three  thousand 
years.  Its  trunk  was  cut  just  below  the  branches, 
and  measures  a  hundred  and  sixteen  feet  in  height, 
the  entire  distance  to  the  top  of  the  branches  being 
three  hundred  and  sixty-three  feet.  The  trunk 
measures  thirty-one  feet  in  circumference,  and  the 
bark  is  eighteen  inches  thick.  This  bark  was  care 
fully  removed  in  sections,  and  reconstructed  as  it  now 
stands.  The  conservatory  is  a  wilderness  of  rare  and 
beautiful  plants ;  from  this  enormous  tree,  down  to 
the  tender  moss  that  fringes  the  borders  of  the  basins, 
every  thing  is  exotic,  and  the  air  is  heavy  with 
tropical  warmth  and  perfume,  and  rings  with  the 
songs  and  screams  of  birds  of  more  than  rainbow 
plumage.  There  are  also  here  models  of  the  colossal 
monsters  of  sculpture  which  are  found  in  the  long- 
forgotten  temples  of  Nineveh  and  Babylon— hideous 
figures,  that  give  one  such  degrading  ideas  of  the 
conceptions  of  humanity  in  the  lower  degrees  of 
civilization. 

Another  curiosity  is  a  pyramid,  representing  the 
amount  of  gold  brought  to  England  from  Australia, 
between  the  years  1851  and  1861.  I  did  not  learn 
its  volume,  but  it  towers  up,  a  mass  of  golden 
semblance,  very  rich  in  suggestion.  Various  articles 
of  merchandise  are  displayed  throughout  the  edifice, 


324  WAYSIDE    SKETCHES. 

evidently  more  for  the  purpose  of  advertisement  than 
for  profit 

There  were  two  concert  performances  during  our 
stay,  and  some  very  fine  organ  music.  The  grounds 
are  tastefully  laid  out  with  terraces,  fountains, 
mounds,  arbors,  lakes,  and  every  variety  of  miniature 
landscape  charm. 

A  very  interesting  part  of  the  grounds,  to  me,  was 
the  quarter  exhibiting  the  geological  formations  of 
the  earth.  It  was  done  under  the  direction  of  the 
late  Prince  Consort.  The  regular  succession  of  strata 
has  been  carefully  produced,  and  upon  an  island  in 
a  little  lake,  are  huge  models  of  the  extinct  species, 
constructed  according  to  the  fossils.  Here  the  gi 
gantic  saurians  gape  at  each  other,  in  all  their  stages 
of  advance,  and  make  one  devoutly  thankful  that 
the  species  is  truly  extinct.  We  had  no  object  in 
ascending  the  tower,  for  the  fog  was  so  dense  that  it 
was  impossible  to  tell  whether  the  view  beyond  the 
grounds  were  upon  city  or  forest. 

Nov.  12.  We  have  visited  one  of  the  great  parks, 
which  spread  their  greenness  over  such  vast  extent 
in  the  very  midst  of  a  crowded  city  like  London,  that 
they^give  the  sense  of  quiet  and  solitude  like  that  of 
the  country. 

And  in  the  midst  of  these  green  fields  we  find  a 
wide  area  of  many  acres,  devoted  to  the  animals  of 
every  quarter  of  the  globe.  The  exhibition  here  is 
much  larger, 'and  on  a  better  scale  than  that  in  Paris. 
The  creatures  are  admirably  appointed,  and  are  the 


WAYSIDE     SKETCHES.  325 

best  specimens  of  their  kinds.  The  magnitude  of  the 
expense,  and  the  stable  persistence  of  such  establish 
ments  as  these,  are  as  remarkable  among  the  things  of 
the  old  world  as  its  mountains  or  its  architecture,  and 
tell  of  the  slow  sifting  process  of  time  as  truly  as  its 
monuments  and  its  palaces. 

Nov.  14.  To-day  we  have  betaken  ourselves  to 
the  great  highway  which  runs  silently  through  the 
heart  of  the  metropolis. 

We  went  to  see  the  monument  which  stands  near 
London  Bridge,  marking  the  spot  where  the  great 
fire  of  1666  broke  out;  a  long  inscription  records 
the  ravages  of  the  fire,  and  the  fact  that  the  monu 
ment  was  completed  in  1677. 

The  approach  to  the  river  landings  is  blind,  intri 
cate,  and  rendered  difficult  by  the  throng  of  vehicles 
in  the  narrow  streets  near  the  water  side.  The  boats 
do  not  receive  and  discharge  passengers  at  the  same 
landing,  thereby  avoiding  much  confusion,  but 
occasioning  considerable  inconvenience,  and,  to  a 
stranger,  perplexity. 

We  took  a  steamer  and  went  up  to  Milbank, 
passing  Southwark,  Blackfriars,  Waterloo  and  West 
minster  bridges,  and  Lambeth  Palace,  and  stopping 
just  short  of  Yauxhall  bridge.  The  most  beautiful 
of  all  these  noble  structures  is  the  Westminster 
bridge.  It  rests  upon  iron  arches,  with  an  upper 
bridge  and  balustrade  of  stone. 

There  is  no  point  of  view  so  fine  for  many  of 
the  London  buildings  as  the  river.  St.  Paul's,  the 


326  WAYSIDE     SKETCHES. 

Parliament  Houses,  Westminster  Abbey,  Somerset 
House,  Lambeth  Palace,  and  the  Tower  are  all  seen 
to  good  advantage. 

The  sail  was  full  of  historic  memories.  One 
could  almost  fancy  the  gay  barges  of  the  pleasure 
loving  nobles,  or  the  swift  vehicles  of  their  secret 
vengeance,  among  the  prosaic  boats  that  now  ply 
their  trade  under  the  argus  eye  of  the  police.  It  is 
far  better  to  lionize  among  the  monuments  of  the 
olden  centuries,  than  to  have  lived,  with  one's  life 
upon  the  breath  of  some  capricious  mortal,  even  in 
the  days  that  seem  so  picturesque  in  the  distance.  I 
think  all  real  life  is  in  the  straight  line  of  prose, 
until  we  reach  such  a  distance  as  shall  enable  us 
to  take  in  the  mighty  curve  by  which  the  seeming 
straight  line  becomes  the  line  of  beauty  and  grace. 

We  next  went  down  the  river  to  the  Tunnel,  the 
great  useless  wonder  of  achievement,  by  which  the 
miracle  of  old  is  verified,  and  we  walk  by  a  dry  path 
through  the  midst  of  the  sea. 

This  long  arch  is  a  beautiful  piece  of  work,  and 
it  is  utterly  impossible  to  realize  that  the  waters  are 
tossing,  and  ships  riding  over  our  heads.  It  is 
well  lighted,  and  its  recesses  are  filled  with  small 
stands  of  vendible  articles,  which  would  seem  to  be 
a  pursuit  of  commercial  advantage  under  unusual 
difficulties, 

The  great  depth  of  this  work,  necessitating  a  de 
scent  of  one  hundred  steps  on  either  side,  is  alone 
sufficient  to  destroy  the  feasibility  of  the  plan ;  and 


WAYSIDE     SKETCHES.  327 

the  difficulty  of  constructing  a  carriage  approach  has 
proved  insurmountable. 

However,  all  is  not  lost  that  proves  impracticable. 
The  great  lessons  of  practical  mechanics  are  never 
learned,  but  by  repeated  failures;  although  people 
are  apt  to  forget  that  there  is  as  much  necessity  for 
learning  what  cannot  be  done,  as  what  is  truly  feasi 
ble.  Perhaps  Brunei  has  accomplished  no  unworthy 
mission  in  demonstrating  impossibilities  by -the  re- 
ductio  ad  absurdum. 

We  crossed  from  Wapping  to  the  Surrey  side,  and 
were  obliged  to  walk  a  long  distance  for  some  means 
of  conveyance  to  the  city,  through  streets  such  as 
we  read  of  in  English  books  —  the  very  reverse  of 
Piccadilly ;  most  dingy  and  uninviting ;  that  mid 
dle  ground  between  comfort  and  squalidity,  in  which 
a  vast  number  of  people  must  make  their  habitation  ; 
but  which  is  almost  equally  repulsive  to  the  feelings 
with  utter  poverty.  I  was  glad,  however,  to  have 
seen  that  phase  of  London  suburbs,  which  we  pass 
usually  by  train,  and  without  notice. 

Nov.  15.  Went  to  morning  service  at  Christ's 
Hospital,  and  afterwards  to  the  gallery  of  the  dining 
hall,  to  see  the  boys  at  table.  It  was  a  place  of  great 
interest  to  me.  Christ's  Hospital  was  founded  by 
Edward  the  Sixth,  whose  effigy  surmounts  the  inner 
entrance.  Its  original  intention  was,  like  that  of 
many  similar  institutions  here,  the  education  of  poor 
children ;  but,  like  many  others  of  its  class,  it  has 
passed  into  an  establishment  into  which  entrance 


328  WAYSIDE    SKETCHES. 

must  be  obtained  by  influence ;  and  is  diverted  to 
the  benefit  of  a  rather  different  class  of  society  from 
that  for  which  it  was  at  first  intended. 

The  appearance  and  manner  of  the  boys  showed 
plainly  that  they  belong  to  no  substratum  of  society. 
They  retain  the  dress  prescribed  at  the  foundation,  a 
most  peculiar  and  inconvenient  garb ;  consisting  of  a 
long  blue  cloth  gown,  belted  with  a  leather  girdle ; 
a  yellow  flannel  tunic  like  an  apron  or  short  petticoat ; 
yellow  stockings  and  russet  shoes:  no  collar,  but 
cambric  bands  like  those  of  a  clergyman,  and  no 
covering  for  the  head  save  the  luxuriant  protection 
of  nature.  Eight  hundred  of  these  boys  filled  the 
gallery  of  the  chapel  and  led  the  responses.  In  the 
chancel  was  a  table  spread  with  loaves  of  bread, 
which  were  distributed  to  the  poor  at  the  close  of 
the  service.  The  sermon  was  preached  by  Rev.  Dr. 
McCall,  a  scholarly  divine,  who  has  been  engaged  in 
the  work  of  revision  of  scripture ;  and  was  in  behalf 
of  the  Fishmongers'  and  Poulterers'  charity. 

After  service  we  brought  up  the  rear  of  the  long 
procession  of  boys  through  the  cloisters  of  the  quad 
rangle,  and  established  ourselves  in  a  gallery  which 
overlooked  the  dining  hall;  a  long  stately  room, 
adorned  with  paintings  and  stained  windows ;  with 
an  organ  gallery  at  the  opposite  end.  Eighteen 
tables  were  laid  in  the  hall,  with  long  benches  for 
seats  ;  and  along  these  tables  the  boys  clustered,  like 
bees  about  a  hive.  A  detachment  girded  up  their 
gowns  into  their  belts,  and  brought  in  the  huge 


WAYSIDE    SKETCHES.  329 

covered  dishes  of  meat,  one  to  the  head  of  each 
table,  and  tall  baskets  of  bread  and  tubs  of  potatoes, 
which  were  all  deposited  beside  the  matrons  of  the 
tables,  who  proceeded  to  carve  the  beef.  When  this 
was  done,  a  chapter  was  read  from  the  desk, 
prayers  were  said  and  grace  chanted  by  the  boys, 
accompanied  by  the  organ.  How  devout  the  service, 
would  probably  depend  somewhat  upon  the  appetite. 
Then  the  viands  were  served,  the  boys  still  acting  as 
waiters,  the  bread  and  beer  distributed,  and,  their 
dinner  being  fairly  inaugurated,  we  went  home  to 
our  own. 

In  the  afternoon  we  went  down  to  the  venerable 
abbey  of  Westminster,  to  enjoy  the  magnificent  ser 
vice,  and  to  hear  the  new  dean,  Dr.  Stanley,  late  of 
Oxford.  Altogether,  it  was  the  most  imposing  ser 
vice  that  I  have  ever  attended.  The  church,  or 
rather  that  part  of  it  screened  for  service,  was 
thronged  —  it  was  impossible  to  obtain  a  seat.  The 
majestic  old  cathedral,  stretching  its  dim  arches  above 
the  lofty  aisles ;  the  stately  monuments  of  the  rever 
end  dead,  lifting  their  ghostly  forms  in  the  shadowy 
aisles  of  nave  and  transept ;  the  poet's  corner,  not 
only  crowded  with  living  worshippers,  but  instinct 
with  the  immortality  of  genius ;  the  remembrance 
that  we  were  encircled  by  chapels,  the  depositories  of 
the  royal  dust,  and  the  renowned  ashes  of  ages ;  the 
solemn  swell  of  the  great  organ,  bearing  the  rich 
deep  voices  of  the  choir  through  the  vaulted  roof; 
the  prayers,  hallowed  and  mellowed  by  the  memo- 

22 


330  WAYSIDE     SKETCHES. 

ries  of  the  saints  and  martyrs,  who  have  breathed 
their  holy  aspirations  in  this  very  language  —  in 
which  the  humblest  Christian  utters  his  lowly  wor 
ship  ;  and,  added  to  the  majesty  of  the  service,  the 
sermon — a  clear,  strong,  evangelical  unfolding  of  the 
character  and  work  of  the  Saviour  of  men,  plain  to 
the  understanding  of  the  ordinary  man,  yet  profound 
to  the  comprehension  of  the  scholar  —  and  well 
worthy  the  reputation  of  Dr.  Stanley ;  all  this  went 
to  constitute  a  satisfaction  and  solemnity  such  as  I 
never  felt  in  any  service  before.  Happy  is  a  church, 
in  which  such  a  preacher  can  find,  in  such  an  edifice, 
such  a  congregation  to  listen  to  the  simple  gospel 
of  Jesus! 


WAYSIDE     SKETCHES.  331 


CHAPTER   XVII. 

ENGLAND. 

London  —  Hyde   Park  —  Theatres — South  Kensington  Museum — Guildhall  — 
Oxford  —  Birmingham  —  Liverpool. 

WE  have  driven  about  the  city,  and  have  seen 
enough  of  London  to  carry  away  with  us  some  idea 
of  its  vast  extent,  and  some  satisfactory  identification 
of  localities  with  which  we  have  long  been  familiar 
by  name. 

Among  these  innumerables,  we  have  seen  White 
hall  and  the  Banqueting  House,  in  front  of  which 
King  Charles  was  beheaded;  Marlborough  House, 
the  present  residence  of  the  Prince  of  Wales ;  Aps- 
ley  House  and  the  Triumphal  Arch;  all  sorts  of 
statues ;  have  driven  about  Piccadilly  and  Belgravia, 
and  the  parks;  have  admired  the  wide  fields  and 
charming  views  of  Hyde  Park,  and  the  cultivation  of 
Kensington  gardens,  and  have  seen  markets  and 
theatres.  We  went  to  St.  Giles'  Cripplegate,  where 
Milton  is  buried,  but  were  not  able  to  obtain  admis 
sion.  We  walked  through  the  by-ways  of  Doctors' 
Commons  and  have  driven  round  more  squares,  and 
through  more  streets  than  I  can  attempt  to  remember. 
We  saw  the  shop,  No.  21  Bow  Street,  which  occupies 


332  WAYSIDE     SKETCHES. 

the  site  of  Will's  Coffee  House ;  the  Eainbow  Tavern, 
and  many  other  spots  of  more  or  less  historic  interest. 

We  have  paid  our  respects  to  the  play  in  London 
at  four  theatres,  the  Adelphi,  the  Olympic,  Drury 
Lane  and  the  Haymarket.  Covent  Garden,  which  is 
a  very  fine  looking  structure,  partly  enclosed  by  a 
glazed  roof,  we  did  not  visit ;  not  having  a  fancy  for 
the  English  Opera,  which  is  its  present  attraction.  I 
am  little  qualified  to  criticise  the  stage,  but  the  Eng 
lish  play  is  certainly  far  superior  to  any  thing  that  I 
have  seen  at  home.  Even  the  inferior  parts  were 
good,  and  carefully  sustained. 

Manfred,  at  the  Haymarket,  was  said  to  be  the 
finest  scenic  representation  ever  put  upon  the  English 
stage,  and  I  can  easily  believe  it  to  be  true. 

The  Alpine  scenery  was  wonderful ;  mountains, 
waterfalls,  and  the  great  Jung  Frau  itself ;  while  the 
supernatural  scenes  were  gorgeous. 

Manfred  was  played  by  a  young  actor,  who,  upon 
the  authority  of  Macready,  is  destined  to  achieve 
great  things  upon  the  stage  ;  but  the  single  utterance 
of  "  Manfred,"  by  the  phantom  of  Astarte,  embodied 
a  dramatic  power,  of  which  I  had  before  no  concep 
tion.  None  of  the  theatres  were  large,  but  they  were 
handsome  and  well  appointed. 

One  of  the  greatest  pleasures  that  we  have  enjoyed 
was  the  -gallery  of  pictures  at  South  Kensington 
Museum.  It  is  a  gallery  of  British  artists,  and  com 
prises  three  private  collections — the  Vernon,  the 
Sheepshanks  and  the  Ellison.  It  afforded  far  more 


WAYSIDE     SKETCHES.  333 

gratification  to  my  taste  than  the  National  gallery. 
There  is  scarcely  a  picture  there  which  has  not  great 
merit.  I  cannot  remember  all,  even  of  those  most 
striking  to  me,  but  will  endeavor  to  rescue  some  of 
them  from  the  treachery  of  my  memory. 

Here  are  treasured  up  the  works  of  Hogarth,  Wil- 
kie,  Lawrence,  Reynolds,  Gainsborough,  West,  Land- 
seer,  Turner,  and,  of  less  universal  note,  Leslie,  "Ward, 
Etty,  Cope  and  many  others,  who  would  be  distin 
guished  any  where  except  under  the  shadow  of  such 
pre-eminent  genius. 

We  have  often  sought  for  some  trace  of  the  brush 
of  Hogarth,  and  have  found  it  here  alone ;  but  the 
series  of  pictures  which  here  represents  him  scarcely 
suggests  the  bold,  strong  painting  which  the  history 
of  Hogarth  marks  as  his  characteristic.  Marriage  a 
la  mode  is  full  of  spirit,  but  it  does  not  seem  to 
belong  to  Hogarth. 

Nor  are  the  pictures  of  Wilkie  quite  equal  to 
what  I  had  supposed,  although  some  of  them  are 
very  pleasing ;  most  of  them  are  sketches  of  village 
life  —  the  best  to  my  taste  is  The  Refusal. 

There  is  a  splendid  full-length  picture  of  West,  by 
Lawrence,  and  another  of  Kemble  as  -Hamlet,  two 
masterly  works.  There  are  lovely  real  children  by 
Reynolds,  and  the  beautiful  picture  of  Samuel,  the 
parent  of  all  the  pretty  engravings  of  infant  prayer; 
but  owing  to  the  failure  of  some  of  his  experiments 
in  coloring,  many  of  his  best  pictures  are  faded  and 
disfigured. 


334  WAYSIDE     SKETCHES. 

West's  great  picture  of  Christ  Healing  the  Sick  is 
full  of  study.  I  wonder  if  the  president  of  the  Koyal 
Academy  were  ever  perplexed  upon  the  subject  of 
his  own  identity,  as  he  looked  back  from  London 
upon  the  little  boy  in  the  wilds  of  Pennsylvania,  who 
despoiled  his  cat  of  her  caudal  clothing  to  furnish 
materials  for  his  prophetic  brush. 

But,  if  I  desired  to  go  down  to  posterity  with  the 
prestige  of  loveliness,  I  should,  among  them  all,  se 
lect  Gainsborough  to  paint  my  portrait.  His  picture 
of  Mrs.  Siddons  is,  among  portraits,  next  to  Guido's 
Beatrice  in  my  reverence.  It  is  said  that  no  painter 
can  do  justice  to  a  beautiful  woman,  but  I  cannot 
conceive  of  beauty  that  would  not  be  glorified  by  the 
touch  of  his  pencil.  Near  by,  another  face,  that  of 
a  young  man,  looks  out  from  Gainsborough's  tints  — 
the  same  exquisite  style  is  visible  in  a  portrait  of 
Colonel  St.  Leger  at  Hampton  Court. 

There  is  another  picture  of  Mrs.  Siddons  at  Ken 
sington,  by  Lawrence ;  but,  fine  as  it  is,  it  breathes  of 
no  such  loveliness  as  this  of  which  I  speak. 

The  wonderful  paintings  of  Landseer  are  here  in 
abundance ;  the  famous  pair  of  Peace  and  War  — 
the  latter  has  scarcely  a  rival ;  the  pictures  in  which 
he  invests  the  perfectly  executed  animal  with  a  sug 
gestive  human  interest,  such  as  Dignity  and  Impu 
dence  ;  Town  Life  and  Country  Life ;  Alexander  and 
Diogenes ;  then  the  pictures  of  the  mere  animals, 
such  as  the  Sleeping  Bloodhound,  and,  perhaps  the 
best  of  all,  the  Shoeing  of  a  Horse. 


WAYSIDE     SKETCHES.  335 

Most  pathetic  in  its  truthfulness  and  simplicity  is 
the  Shepherd's  Chief  Mourner.  The  great  dog  lies 
in  mute  abandon  of  woe,  stretching  his  shaggy  head 
over  the  solitary  coffin  with  a  faithful,  clinging  ten 
derness  that  touches  the  most  reserved  sympathy. 
The  Sacking  of  Basing  House  shows  that  Landseer 
is  not  of  necessity  limited  to  the  depicting  of  animal 
life. 

Among  many  pictures  by  Leslie  are  My  Uncle 
Toby  and  the  Widow  Wad  man ;  a  charming  picture 
of  the  Princes  in  the  Tower ;  Queen  Katharine  and 
Patience ;  a  portrait  of  Queen  Victoria  in  coronation 
robes,  and  Sancho  Panza  and  Dr.  Pedro  Snatchaway. 

The  fall  of  Clarendon,  by  Ward  ;  The  Foundling, 
by  O'Neil ;  a  Yenitian  scene  of  the  Guidecca  and 
the  Jesuit's  College ;  and  a  beautiful  picture  of  the 
Crypts  of  Roslin  Castle,  are  prominent  among  a  score 
of  attractive  paintings ;  and  there  are  two  which  I 
should  like  to  see  again  especially.  One  is  a  picture 
of  the  ante-room  of  Lord  Chesterfield,  with  Dr. 
Johnson  among  the  waiting  multitude.  I  do  not 
remember  the  artist,  but  the  picture  is  the  very 
embodiment  of  the  old  doctor's  character  and  history. 
The  ill-concealed  scorn  of  himself,  which  mingles 
with  his  scarcely  restrained  impatience  and  contempt 
for  his  own  position  and  his  desired  patron,  is 
inimitable.  The  other  picture,  by  Johnson,  is  one  of 
great  pathos ;  Lord  and  Lady  Russel  receiving  the 
sacrament  before  his  execution.  The  sentinel  has 
withdrawn  to  the  prison  window,  and  the  husband 


336  WAYSIDE     SKETCHES. 

and  wife  kneel,  side  by  side,  before  the  priest,  in 
whose  countenance  a  curious  but  sympathetic  obser 
vation  mingles  with  the  solemnity  proper  to  the  rite. 
Lord  Russel,  in  devout  attitude  and  with  downcast 
eyes,  is  evidently  wholly  absorbed  in  the  spiritual 
office  —  not  so  the  wife.  She  kneels,  indeed,  beside 
her  husband,  but  her  devotion  seeks  no  inward 
shrine ;  her  despairing  gaze  devours  the  lineaments 
before  her,  as  if  she  would  drink  in  the  beloved  image 
and  weave  it  with  the  very  fibre  of  her  being.  You 
can  read,  in  that  steadfast,  beseeching  gaze,  the 
preciousness  of  the  fleeting  moments,  the  tenderness 
of  her  breaking  heart.  Priest,  prison  and  sacrament 
have  no  place  in  her  thoughts  —  "that  single  spot  is 
the  whole  world  "  to  her,  and  your  thought  outruns 
the  scene,  and  you  forget  the  unworthy  fate  of  the 
noble  husband  in  the  agony  of  widowhood  that  is 
about  to  spread  its  living  pall  over  the  wife. 

I  cannot  enumerate  half  the  striking  pictures  of 
South  Kensington  Museum,  and  have  absolutely  for- 
gotten  Turner,  that  idol  of  English  criticism. 

We  came  home  by  that  very  enjoyable  mode  of 
conveyance,  the  top  of  an  omnibus,  a  long  hour's 
ride  through  the  dense  interminable  city.  By  Oxford 
Street  and  the  Strand  and  Fleet  Street,  up  Ludgate 
Hill,  through  St.  Paul's  churchyard  and  down  Cheap- 
side,  past  the  Church  where  the  Bow  bells  are  still 
swinging,  and  as  we  alight  we  look  down  the  street 
to  the  Guildhall.  And  I  feel,  as  I  write  these  names, 
that  I  belong  to  the  past  generation,  and  that  Addison 


WAYSIDE     SKETCHES.  337 

and  his  compeers  are  still  gathered  in  the  coffee  house 
at  the  corner  of  Bow  Street;  or  that  Goldsmith  is 
reading  the  Vicar  of  Wakefield  to  Dr.  Johnson  in 
the  sponging  house ;  or  that  the  goldsmiths  are  nego 
tiating  a  loan  to  King  James  in  Lombard  Street ;  or 
that  the  scaffold  is  rising  before  the  Banqueting 
House ;  or  that  De  Quincy  is  fainting  with  starvation 
in  Oxford  Street;  or  that  Mr.  Pickwick  is  ^learning 
human  nature  in  the  Fleet ;  and,  from  all  this  chaotic 
chronology  breaks  forth  the  idea  that  this  is  really 
London. 

Nov.  17.  We  have  been  to  the  Guildhall,  the  "  city 
building  "  of  London.  It  has  a  rather  fine  effect,  as 
it  closes  the  view  of  King  Street,  Cheapside,  and  has 
retained  its  original  color  better  than  most  of  the 
buildings  of  the  kind.  The  blackness  of  London 
smoke  gives  an  effect  which  can  not  be  confounded 
with  the  venerable,  inasmuch  as  new  structures 
readily  acquire  the  same  hue.  The  principal  hall  of 
the  Guildhall  is  adorned  with  the  escutcheons  of  the 
various  fraternities  of  the  city,  and  bears  panels  with 
the  names  and  dates  of  the  various  Lord  Mayors. 
Here  are  the  two  uncouth  wooden  city  giants,  Gog 
and  Magog.  One  can  not  help  remembering,  by 
contrast,  the  sculptures  which  adorn  the  streets  and 
porches  of  almost  every  town  in  Italy.  These  figures 
are  of  little  higher  civilization  than  the  rude  sculp 
tures  of  our  own  aborigines. 

"We  have  been  traversing  the  now  familiar  streets 
with  lingering  and  reluctant  steps.  We  have  seen 


338         .  WAYSIDE     SKETCHES. 

some  of  the  objects  of  interest  to  the  traveller  in 
London,  but  we  feel  that  a  lifetime  of  wonder  and 
richness  lies  beneath  the  surface  to  which  we  have 
grown,  in  a  degree,  accustomed ;  that  London  itself, 
without  regard  to  the  vast  treasures  of  wealth,  and 
knowledge,  and  power,  and  research  stored  up  within 
her  walls,  means  more  to  us  than  all  the  other  cities 
of  the  earth. 

Setting  aside  sectional  prejudice  and  party  ques 
tions,  it  is  evident  to  the  thoughtful  mind  that  this  is 
the  fountain  from  which  have  gone,  and  still  go  forth 
streams  of  blessings  for  these  later  ages. 

The  acorn  of  civil  and  religious  liberty  was  planted 
in  this  cold,  distant,  wave-defended  island  by  no  less 
than  a  divine  hand.  Protected  by  its  poverty,  its 
remoteness  and  its  rudeness,  it  had  nothing  to  attract 
the  rapacity  of  the  continental  hordes,  the  trampling 
of  whose  armies  would  have  beaten  down  the  germ 
of  the  mighty  shoot,  the  moment  it  had  lifted  its  head 
above  the  soil.  Then,  the  stubborn  phlegmatic  race 
were  in  no  haste  to  turn  their  dominion  into  a  hotbed, 
to  force  the  precious  plant  to  an  unhealthy  maturity. 
Thus  it  grew  slowly  upward,  all  the  more  thriftily  for 
the  ploughing  and  delving  necessary  to  the  daily 
bread  of  the  toiling  inhabitants ;  sometimes  watered 
with  blood,  sometimes  shaken  by  whirlwind ;  some 
times  checked  in  its  growth,  and  reft  of  many  a 
goodly  bough,  it  still  grew,  for  it  was  of  a  divine 
seed,  and  rooted  itself  strong  and  wide,  until,  at  this 
moment,  the  nations  are  eating  of  its  fruit,  and  re- 


WAYSIDE     SKETCHES.  339 

posing  under  its  shadow.  And  we,  who  have  drawn 
the  principles  of  our  political  life,  the  nourishment 
of  our  intellectual  power,  and  the  spirit  of  our 
religion  from  this  root,  must  feel  bound  to  this  great 
Saxon  heart  of  civilization  by  a  thousand  ties  of 
sympathy  and  association,  such  as  belong  to  no  other 
land.  Her  history  is  our  history;  her  literature  is 
our'  literature;  and  the  reading  world  of  our  own 
land  is  more  familiar  with  London  and  its  asso 
ciations  than  with  any  other  subject  of  history  in  the 
world. 

The  emotions  which  swell  the  heart  in  London  are 
too  impressive  and  too  complicated  to  express  or  even 
to  analyze.  These  streets  which  we  pace,  musing 
ever  as  we  go,  have  been  shaken  by  the  tramp  of  the 
legions  of  Caesar ;  have  rung  with  the  clang  of  the 
mailed  hosts  of  the  Crusaders;  have  echoed  the 
tread  of  the  grim  battalions  of  the  Eevolution  ;  have 
blazed  with  Eomish  faggots,  and  glittered  with 
Protestant  bonfires;  have  echoed  the  shouts  of 
acclaim  to  Saxon  and  Norman,  to  Plantagenet,  Tudor, 
Stuart,  Cromwell,  Orange  and  Brunswick.  And, 
amid  all  these  changes  and  chances,  the  English 
people  have  held  on,  in  the  main,  their  steady  way ; 
guarding,  with  jealous  conservatism,  their  ancient 
laws  and  customs ;  maintaining  with  stubborn  inde 
pendence  their  legal  rights,  or  those  which  they  fan 
cied  belonged  to  them,  against  foreign  foe  and  native 
tyrant;  fostering  institutions  of  learning  and  religion 
at  home,  and  planting  them  beside  their  flag  abroad ; 


340  WAYSIDE     SKETCHES. 

spreading  the  white  wings  of  their  commerce  upon 
every  sea,  and  laying  the  strong  grasp  of  their  power 
upon  every  land.  The  finger  of  England  is  upon 
the  spring  of  civilization.  That  she  is  proud  is  very 
true  —  too  proud  even  to  be  vain  ;  but  when  one  has 
dwelt,  even  for  a  little  time,  upon  that  which  is 
magnificent  in  her  present,  that  which  is  venerable 
in  her  past,  and  glances  at  the  scroll  upon  which  are 
inscribed  names  which  make  illustrious  the  pages  of 
war,  of  statesmanship,  of  law,  of  science,  of  art,  of 
letters,  of  religion  —  he  must,  perforce,  remember 
that  pride, is  human,  but  these  worthy  objects  of 
pride  are  English. 

We  linger  still  in  these  streets,  resonant  with  the 
echoes  of  centuries,  and  trace  in  their  dust  the  foot 
prints  of  Bacon  and  Newton,  of  Shakspeare  and 
Milton,  of  Addison  and  Johnson,  of  More  and  Eus- 
sel  and  Clarendon  and  Chatham,  of  Warwick  and 
Marlborough  and  Wellington ;  we  look  once  more  at 
St.  Paul's  and  Westminster;  we  thread  again  the 
intricacies  about  the  Bank  and  the  Exchange  and  the 
Mansion  House ;  and  we  write  London  indelibly  and 
reverently  upon  our  memory.  For  to-morrow  we 
turn  our  steps  towards  the  land,  which,  gathering  up 
the  dropped  threads  of  the  past  from  a  myriad  of 
nations,  weaves  them  anew  into  the  many  colored 
web  <&  the  future  —  God  grant  with  such  a  patient 
and  skillful  hand,  that  the  fabric  may  endure  the 
scrutiny  of  the  long  ages,  and  no  sleazy  thread  mar 
the  perfectness  of  the  Master's  design. 


WAYSIDE     SKETCHES. 


Nov.  18.  We  bade,  at  last,  farewell  to  London, 
stopping  on  our  way  to  Paddington  to  see  a  stone 
effigy  of  the  great  Earl  Guy  upon  a  house  in  New 
gate  Street.  We  soon  left  the  great  city  far  behind, 
and  sped  swiftly  through  the  lovely  country  along 
the  Western  Kail  way  —  lovely  even  now,  although 
despoiled  of  the  green  and  gold  of  the  summer  har 
vest,  which  glorified  the  landscape  when  we  last  tra 
versed  it.  Presently  the  massive  outline  of  Windsor 
Castle  rose  bold  and  sharp  against  the  November  sky, 
with  the  royal  banner  drooping  from  its  tower  to 
indicate  the  presence  of  the  Queen.  The  broad 
oaken  sea  of  foliage  still  ripples  at  its  foot,  and  the 
blue  haze  still  curls  up  from  the  bosom  of  the  silver 
Thames,  as  it  sweeps  the  base  of  this  proudest  and 
noblest  of  royal  homes. 

Windsor  stirs  my  heart  with  a  pride  akin  to  that 
of  one  who  looks  upon  the  towers  of  his  ancestors, 
even  though  they  may  have  long  since  ceased  to 
belong  to  his  own  birthright. 

The  stately  vision  soon  faded  in  the  distance,  and 
we  turned  eagerly  to  the  gray  towers  and  spires  of 
Oxford.  This  spot,  venerable  with  associations  most 
dear  to  the  scholar,  means  so  much,  and  expresses  so 
little,  that  you  feel  continually  baffled  in  the  attempt 
to  identify  your  ideal  with  the  actual.  You  know 
so  much  of  it,  and  you  see  so  little,  that  it  seems  to 
be  an  enchanted  castle,  which  needs  only  the  magic 
word  to  open  its  inner  depths  and  display  treasures 
hoary  with  antiquity,  and  precious  with  the  riches  of 


342  WAYSIDE     SKETCHES. 

many  ages.  But  the  blank,  square,  impenetrable 
walls  invite  no  scrutiny,  and  the  stony  gloom  of  the 
ancient  corridors  and  staircases  may  well  remind  one 
of  the  days  of  monastic  life. 

We  went  to  Christ  Church,  the  largest  of  the  clus 
ter  of  colleges  that  compose  the  famous  University. 
The  University  College  is  the  most  ancient,  boasting 
King  Alfred  as  its  founder. 

We  visited  the  chapel,  the  dining-hall,  and  the 
library.  This  last  is  neither  large  nor  pretentious ; 
but  it  contains,  beside  its  literary  stores,  gems  of  art 
from  the  ancient  masters,  all  the  more  welcome  to 
our  recognition  for  having  bidden  them,  as  we  sup 
posed,  a  final  farewell.  We  drove  through  the  streets 
and  scanned  the  various  colleges.  Although  of 
different  periods  of  architecture,  they  all  bear  the 
same  general  features,  and  it  needed  an  effort  of  fancy 
to  invest  them  with  the  power  and  dignity  of  their 
real  importance. 

A  monument  has  been  erected  in  front  of  Baliol 
College  to  the  memory  of  Cranmer,  Latimer,  and 
Ridley,  who  perished  here. 

A  few  students  in  gown  and  cap,  loitered  about  the 
quadrangles  of  the  college,  but  we  were  surprised  to 
see  the  place  so  deserted.  What  was  our  chagrin  to 
discover,  too  late,  that  of  all  the  days  of  the  year, 
this  was  the  one  for  the  boat-races  of  the  university. 
and  all  the  world  was  in  Christ  Church  meadows.  To 
have  just  missed  this  event  in  Oxford  life,  was  inex 
pressibly  annoying. 


WAYSIDE     SKETCHES.  343 

We  went  to  the  Bodleian  library — a  world  of 
books,  ancient  and  modern,  of  curious  volumes  and 
rare  manuscripts.  It  is  next  in  size  to  the  library  of 
the  British  Museum,  and  contains,  I  believe,  over 
two  hundred  and  forty  thousand  volumes.  There 
are,  besides,  models  of  temples,  cathedrals  and  noted 
ruins,  portraits  of  royal  and  ecclesiastical  dignitaries, 
and  objects  of  interest  enough  to  tempt  one  to  many 
visits.  Among  the  curiosities  is  the  lantern  of  Guy 
Fawkes. 

There  is  a  picture  gallery  belonging  to  the  library, 
but  we  were  not  particularly  struck  by  any  of  the 
pictures. 

We  saw  there  the  Princesses  Helena  and  Louise, 
attended  by  Dean  Stanley,  Colonel  Ponsonby  and 
the  Honorable  Mrs.  Bruce.  They  are  not  handsome, 
but  pleasing  and  simple-mannered  ladies. 

We  lingered  among  the  treasures  of  the  library, 
until  the  bell  warned  us  to  retire,  and,  after  driving 
about  the  town,  we  came  on  to  Birmingham,  and 
spent  the  night  at  the  Hen  and  Chickens. 

Nov.  19.  We  sallied  forth  through  the  smoky  town 
to  see  some  of  the  establishments  that  make  Birming 
ham  noted  at  home  and  abroad.  And,  among  the 
beautiful  things,  the  handsomest  were  the  elegant 
bronzes,  which  I  have  never  seen  equalled.  The 
clocks,  mantel  ornaments,  busts,  statues,  statuettes, 
were  all  admirable.  We  saw  the  process  of  electro 
plating,  and  its  cognate  operations,  and  were  politely 
received  and  conducted  through  the  establishment 


S4A  WAYSIDE     SKETCHES. 

The  manufactory  of  papier  mache  seems  more  like 
a  magazine  of  art  than  a  place  of  mechanical  labor. 
Such  beautiful  things  are  done  with  dull  opaque 
heaps  of  brown  paper  as  make  one  wonder  at  the 
ingenuity  and  taste  which,  besides  modelling  furni 
ture  and  household  appliances  and  conveniences  out 
of  such  unlikely  material,  afterwards  elevates  them  to 
the  dignity  of  works  of  art.  There  were  tables  exqui 
sitely  copied  from  Landseer ;  waiters  pretty  enough 
to  be  framed  for  pictures;  gems  of  scenery  and 
flowers ;  sketches  of  ruins,  castles  and  cathedrals ; 
portfolios,  boxes,  books,  desks,  &c.,  &c.,  all  enticing 
and  useful. 

We  saw  the  process  of  manufacture,  from  the 
gluing  of  the  sheets  of  paper  into  masses,  to  the 
gilding  and  polishing  at  the  close.  Most  of  the  work 
seemed  to  be  done  by  women.  Indeed  there  are 
many  avenues  of  labor  and  occupation  opened  to 
women  on  this  side  of  the  ocean,  which  ought 
to  satisfy  any  reasonable  advocate  of  woman's 
rights. 

Women  are  found  in  nearly  all  the  booking  offices 
of  hotels ;  they  are  the  book-keepers  in  shops ;  they  fill 
positions  of  respectability  as  housekeepers,  and  dis 
charge,  with  propriety,  many  offices,  such  as  we  be 
stow  upon  men,  who  should  be,  instead,  at  the  strong 
armed  work  of  bodily  labor. 

We  spent  a  day  in  Liverpool,  in  rest  from  journey 
ing,  and  in  preparing  for  our  voyage,  Have  been 
about  the  streets  of  the  city ;  have  seen  shops  and 


WAYSIDE     SKETCHES.  345 

markets ;  have  been  watching  the  arrivals  of  our 
fellow  passengers,  among  whom  we  have  already 
found  some  acquaintances,  and  have  been  indulging 
the  unusual  feeling  of  having  nothing  to  see,  and 
nothing  to  do. 
23 


346  WAYSIDE     SKETCHES. 


CHAPTER    XVIII. 

HOMEWARD     BOUND. 

Scotia  —  Liverpool  to  New  York. 

Nov.  21.  Once  more  afloat  upon  the  tossing  sea. 
The  good  ship  Scotia  stands  first  among  the  means 
of  Atlantic  transit,  but  the  Great  Eastern  has  spoiled 
us  for  any  thing  short  of  a  floating  hotel,  and  our 
accommodations  seem  narrow  and  stifling. 

The  last  gleam  of  sunshine  departed  as  we  left 
the  shore  and  steamed  down  the  Mersey  to  our  ship, 
and  we  had  reason  to  congratulate  ourselves  on 
taking  the  earliest  tug — for  the  mail  came  down  in 
a  pouring  rain,  and  one  of  the  passengers,  losing 
heart  at  the  ominous  commencement  of  the  voyage, 
forfeited  his  passage  money,  and  returned  to  await 
better  auspices — to  the  great  amusement  of  his  fel 
lows,  who,  however,  learned  before  the  voyage  was 
over,  to  feel  some  respect  for  the  good  fortune  of  an 
individual  so  true  to  his  instincts. 

We  dropped  anchor  the  next  night  in  the  harbor 
of  Queenstown,  and  we  went  on  deck  to  look  at  the 
distant  lights,  and  to  bid  a  second  farewell  to  the 
Old  World,  and  then  betook  ourselves  to  our  berths, 
where  some  of  us  were  destined  to  remain  for  a  large 


WAYSIDE     SKETCHES.  347 

part  of  the  voyage.  We  had  an  unceasing  gale  to 
New  York,  with  almost  continual  storm,  and  the  trip 
was  as  bad  as  it  could  well  have  been  without  actual 
danger. 

My  own  friends  maintained  the  most  upright  pro 
priety,  holding  their  position  in  the  saloon  in  a  credit 
able  and  seaworthy  manner,  while  I  lay  in  profundis, 
meekly  veiling  my  bonnet  to  steward  and  stewardess, 
with  not  even  a  spar  of  resolution  left  upon  which  to 
hoist  a  signal  of  distress. 

But  this  horrible  malady  of  the  sea,  while  it 
plunges  you  in  despair  as  to  your  own  individuality, 
does  not  prevent  your  watching  with  amusement 
similar  results  in  the  person  of  others. 

There  was  not  even  the  sense  of  insecurity,  either 
to  intensify  or  allay  the  incessant  self-consciousness. 
But  as  I  lay,  plunging  at  every  billow,  I  could  feel 
the  stout,  firm  solidity  with  which  the  ship  met  the 
shock,  and  rose  buoyant  and  obedient  to  keep  the 
unswerving  line  towards  the  news  boat  at  Cape  Race. 

It  mattered  little  to  the  imperturbable  captain  that 
the  sea  swept  the  decks;  he  ruled  his  floating 
world,  and  carved  his  beef,  and  read  the  church 
service  all  the  same. 

I  listened  to  the  boom  of  the  breaking  waves,  and 
the  swash  of  the  returning  water,  to  the  rattling  of 
cordage,  and  the  tramp  at  the  heaving  of  the  log.  I 
could  see  the  faces  of  the  few  passengers  who  were 
abroad,  as  they  stole  along  the  narrow  passage, 
inflexibly  set  in  the  determination  to  persuade  them- 


348  WAYSIDE     SKETCHES. 

selves  and  the  rest  of  their  world  that  they  were  not 
at  all  sick. 

Then  there  was 'the  daily  fib  of  the  attendants,  who 
assured  the  patients  that  the  weather  was  charming 
above,  and  that  they  would  be  quite  well  "  once  they 
got  on  deck ;"  the  faint  wail  in  reply ;  the  carrying 
of  some  refractory  sufferer,  vi  et  armis,  into  the 
stormy  air ;  there  were  kindly  neighbors,  who,  with 
the  touch  of  sympathy  which  made  that  whole 
world  kin,  proffered  grapes  and  champagne  to  un 
grateful  strangers ;  and,  as  days  wore  on,  the  most 
hopeless  began  to  emerge  from  the  lower  obscurity, 
and  so  at  last  did  I.  I  crept  to  the  saloon  and  lay 
upon  the  cushions,  the  only  stretch  of  which  my 
exertions  were  capable.  We  assembled  in  creditable 
force  to  do  honor  to  the  Thanksgiving  dinner,  and 
had  a  merry  time,  despite  the  stormy  roar  without. 
We  had  a-  brilliant  impromptu  speech  from  Mr. 
Ruggles,  who  was  returning  from  the  Statistical  Con 
gress  of  Nations,  and  we  underwent  various  political 
demonstrations;  for,  albeit  in  an  English  ship,  we 
were  representatives  of  almost  every  sort  and  con 
dition  of  American  life. 

So  passed  the  voyage.  We  found  pleasant  com 
panions,  not  the  least  among  whom  was  our  kind  and 
genial  friend  of  the  house  of  Harper — and  the  en 
forced  contact  of  our  daily  life  developed  acquaint 
ance  into  familiar  intercourse  and  intimacy. 

We  discussed  dress  and  politics,  theology  and  sen 
timent,  poetry  and  education;  compared  notes  of 


WAYSIDE     SKETCHES.  349 

recent  travel  and  present  affliction ;  we  had  play  and 
merriment  and  nonsense — and  it  was  not  without  a 
touch  of  regret  at  separation,  that  we  stood  at  last, 
thank  God,  in  health  and  safety,  upon  the  welcome 
shores  of  our  own  beloved  land. 

As  I  look  back  upon  the  enjoyment  of  the 
last  few  months,  I  am  continually  surprised  that  in 
a  journey  undertaken,  on  my  own  part,  specifically 
in  search  of  health,  so  much  has  been  accomplished 
with  so  little  consciousness  of  exertion  or  fatigue. 

In  order  to  enjoy  any  success  in  a  short  tour,  it  is 
necessary  to  have  a  definite  idea  of  the  main  points 
of  interest  to  be  sought,  and  then  to  close  the  eager 
eyes  to  many  desirable  things,  which  must  be  omit 
ted,  that  the  main  design  be  not  frustrated. 

In  a  reasonably  successful  pursuance  of  this  plan, 
we  have  seen,  in  part,  England,  Scotland,  Wales, 
Ireland,  Belgium,  Prussia,  Germany,  Switzerland, 
Austria,  Italy,  France  and — Fairyland.  It  is  evident 
that  in  a  tour  like  ours  we  were  to  see  more  of  things 
than  of  people  ;  for  to  scan  the  people  minutely  re 
quires  a  long  and  loitering  divergence  from  the  com 
mon  routes  of  travel,  and  a  familiar  acquaintance 
with  their  languages — begging,  that  one  universal 
language  forgotten  at  the  confusion  of  Babel,  and 
pourboire,  by  which  the  traveller  is  made  to  supply 
the  missing  link  between  the  justice  of  the  employer 
and  the  rights  of  the  employed,  being  the  only 
intelligible  communication  to  the  unlearned  tourist^ 

Our  pleasure,  then,  with  such  knowledge  of  men 


350  WAYSIDE     SKETCHES. 

and  society  as  came  by  the  way,  lay  in  scenery,  art, 
architecture,  and  the  associations  of  antiquity,  of 
history,  of  poetry  or  of  fiction. 

And  I  would  fain  gather  up  more  closely  the 
clews  by  which  we  have  threaded  the  labyrinth  of 
foreign  lands,  and  brought  thence  pictures  to 
brighten  the  chambers  of  memory  for  all  our  after 
life.  These  various  sources  of  pleasure  are,  of 
course,  always  more  or  less  combined,  in  all  that,  we 
have  seen,  but,  for  the  sake  of  distinctness  of  re 
membrance,  I  would  classify  them  in  my  own  mind 
under  their  most  prominent  characteristics. 

In  church  architecture,  we  have  seen  the  cathedrals 
of  Chester  and  Dublin  and  Glasgow ;  York  Minster 
and  Westminster  and  St.  Paul's;  of  Brussels  and 
Antwerp  and  Cologne;  of  Mayence  and  Frankfort 
and  Strasbourg  and  Notre  Dame;  of  Milan  and 
Venice  and  Florence  and  Pisa  —  and  we  have  seen 
the  great  St.  Peter's. 

We  have  scanned  the  magnificence  of  noble  life 
at  Eaton  and  Chatsworth  and  Warwick,  and  the 
palaces  of  Hampton  and  Windsor,  of  the  Luxem 
bourg  and  Versailles  and  the  Vatican. 

We  have  seen  the  ruins  of  the  past  in  Conway  and 
Caernarvon ;  in  Holyrood  and  Melrose  and  Dryburgh ; 
in  Haddon  and  Kenilworth;  in  the  still  splendid 
remains  of  the  castle  of  Heidelberg,  and  the  countless 
ruins  of  the  Ehine  land  ;  in  Herculaneum  and  Pom- 
geii ;  and,  greatest  and  saddest  monument  of  desola 
tion,  we  have  seen  Home,  whose  feet  are  planted  in 


WAYSIDE     SKETCHES.  351 

the  ruins  of  the  imperial  city,  and  whose  head  over 
looks  the  ruins  of  the  Campagna. 

"We  have  done  homage  to  the  memory  of  genius 
at  Stratford  and  Abbottsford  and  Westminster;  at 
Grasmere  and  Rydal  and  Ambleside  and  Haworth 
and  Ferney  and  Casa  Guidi ;  we  have  seen  the  homes 
of  Goethe,  of  Rubens,  of  Raphael,  and  of  Michael 
Angela 

But  when  I  come  to  speak  of  associations,  there  is 
nothing  to  do  but  to  measure  step  by  step,  the  long 
way,  every  foot  of  which  is  classic  ground.  There 
was  Chester,  full  of  Roman  and  English  antiquities ; 
Holyrood  and  the  castles  of  Edinburgh  and  Stir 
ling;  London  Tower;  the  battle  fields  of  Waterloo 
and  Magenta ;  the  tomb  of  the  Invalids  ;  the  palace 
of  the  Doges,  the  Roman  Capitol,  the  Forum  and  the 
Coliseum. 

But  this  task  is  fruitless,  and  so  would  be  the 
attempt  to  enumerate  the  splendid  works  of  art  en 
graven  on  our  memory. 

It  were  enough  to  have  seen  the  Dying  -Gladiator, 
the  Apollo,  the  Laocoon,  Moses  and  the  Venus  de 
Medici ;  the  Aurora,  and  the  St.  Michael,  of  Guido ; 
the  Transfiguration,  of  Raphael ;  the  Last  Supper,  of 
Da  Yinci ;  the  Descent,  of  Rubens ;  the  Ecce  Homo, 
of  Corregio;  or  the  Assumption,  of  Titian.  But 
these  are  only  the  topmost  peaks,  beneath  which  lies 
a  world  of  art  and  beauty  which  it  would  take  a 
volume  to  describe. 

But  no  art  can  equal  the  grand  and  beautiful  pic- 


352  WA  YSIDE     SKETCHES. 

tares  of  Nature  which  have  marked  our  way  from 
the  Atlantic  to  the  Mediterranean.  Old  Snowdon 
looked  down  upon  us,  among  the  green  swells  and 
craggy  denies  of  Wales ;  we  have  rocked  upon  the 
waves  at  the  foot  of  the  gigantic  headland  of  the  north 
Irish  coast ;  we  have  seen  the  clustering  lakes,  and  the 
heathery  moors,  and  the  brown  sombre  hills  that 
people  the  horizon  at  the  summit  of  Ben  Lomond ; 
we  have  followed  the  windings  of  the  Teith  and 
Forth  through  the  lowland  plains,  down  to  the  broad 
estuary  which  widens  to  the  German  Ocean. 

We  have  drunk  in  the  marvellous  beauty  of  West 
moreland,  by  Ulswater,  and  Windermere,  Eydal  and 
Grasmere;  and  of  the  lovely  lakes  sentinelled  by 
Skiddaw  and  Helvellyn. 

We  have  climbed  the  steep  ways  of  the  West 
Eiding  of  Yorkshire ;  and  have  seen  the  flocks  upon 
the  thousand  green  hills  of  Derby  and  Leicestershire ; 
we  have  wound  through  the  quiet  lanes  and  charm 
ing  fields,  and  landscape  gardens  of  Warwickshire ; 
and  have, admired  the  varied  landscape,  and  the  per 
fect  cultivation  of  the  South  of  England,  and  the 
homely  comfort  of  the  farms  of  Kent.  We  have  been 
upon  the  banks  of  the  Dee  and  the  Tweed,  the  Ouse 
and  Derwent,  the  Avon  and  the  Thames. 

We  have  traversed  the  low  flat  country,  rescued 
by  Flemish  industry  from  the  sea,  where  the  Scheldt 
pours  its  slow  tide  to  the  ocean ;  and  the  well  tilled 
plains  of  France,  and  the  borders  of  the  brown  his 
toric  Seine. 


WAYSIDE     SKETCHES.  353 

We  have  seen  the  sun  set  upon  the  vine-clad  hills 
of  the  Ehine,  from  the  "  castled  crag  of  Drachenfels ;" 
and  we  have  followed  the  lovely  river  of  song  and 
story  from  the  rocky  fortresses  of  Prussia  to  its 
broader  bosom  in  the  plains  of  France  and  Germany. 
We  diverged  to  the  sweet  valleys  of  the  Maine  and 
the  JSTeckar,  and  the  pretty  basin  of  the  Oos. 

We  floated,  humbly  and  reverently,  at  the  foot  of 
the  dark  solemn  peaks  that  shut  in  the  unparalleled 
lake  of  Lucerne ;  we  looked  abroad  from  the  Kulm 
of  the  Rigi  upon  the  snowy  billows  of  the  Bernese 
Oberland  ;  we  overhung  the  emerald  valleys  and  the 
pretty  lakes  of  Sarnen  and  Lungern ;  and  the  wild 
chasm  of  the  vale  of  Hasli,  from  the  magnificent 
road  of  the  Brunig  pass. 

We  watched  the  line  of  cascades  that  leap  to  the 
Arve  from  the  long  curtain  of  the  chamois  moun 
tains  of  Meiringeu. 

We  have  listened  to  the  roar  of  the  Oltschibach 
and  the  Seilerbach,  the  Giessbach  and  the  Reichen- 
bach,  by  which  the  waters  of  the  upper  world  pour 
their  foaming  tribute  to  the  sea. 

We  climbed  the  rocky  pass  to  the  silent  sea  of  ice 
that  hangs  forever  between  the  Wellborn  and  the 
Engelhorn;  we  skirted  the  sweet  lake  of  Brienz, 
amid  fields  greener  than  even  Alpine  valleys;  we 
were  sprinkled  by  the  feathery  spray  of  the  Staub- 
bach,  and  did  reverence  to  the  immaculate  Jung  Frau 
from  the  bosom  of  Interlachen. 

We  sailed  down  lake  Thun,  under  the  shadow  of 


354  WAYSIDE     SKETCHES. 

the  great  ISTiesen ;  and  over  the  blue  waters  of  Lake 
Leman,  until  Mont  Blanc  rose  like  a  snowy  cloud 
in  the  summer  sky. 

We  saw  the  "  arrowy  Rhone  "  shoot  forth  from  the 
quiet  lake,  and  followed  the  gorges  of  the  Arve  to 
its  courses  among  the  fastnesses  of  Savoy. 

We  gazed  at  the  solemn  monarch  of  the  mountains 
with  his  hoary  beard  of  glaciers,  from  the  pavilion  of 
La  Flegere ;  and  watched  the  Arveiron  gushing  from 
the  bosom  of  eternal  ice. 

We  overhung  the  valley  of  the  Rhone,  from  the 
summit  of  the  Forclaz ;  and  traversed  the  stupend 
ous  galleries,  beneath  the  awful  glaciers  and  terrific 
precipices  of  the  Simplon. 

We  saw  Monte  Rosa  from  afar,  as  we  dreamed 
beside  the  blue  waters  of  Maggiore ;  and  we  recalled 
classic  memories  beside  the  Po,  the  Arno  and  the 
Tiber.  We  swept  through  the  picturesque  fields  of 
Lombardy,  climbed  the  purple  Apennines,  and  traced 
the  lava  hills  of  Southern  Italy  to  the  foot  of 
Vesuvius. 

Through  all  the  tour,  we  learned  to  repose  with 
confidence  upon  the  comfort,  security  and  facility  of 
the  means  of  travel,  and  the  order  and  protection  of 
the  governments.  But  beneath  the  orderly  surface 
of  the  continent,  we  could  readily  perceive  the  surg 
ing  of  the  unquiet  people,  and  the  alert,  expectant 
attitude  of  the  rulers  —  while  our  eyes  turned  ever 
more  and  more  anxiously  to  the  land  of  our  own 
love,  whose  destiny  hangs  trembling  in  the  balance. 


WAYSIDE    SKETCHES.  355 

May  the  God,  whose  hand  holds  the  beam  of  the 
balance,  grant,  that,  reading  from  afar  the  scroll  of 
the  earlier  world,  she  may  learn  to  avoid  the  errors 
and  imitate  the  successes  which  it  records. 

That,  unscathed  by  the  fires  of  intolerance,  un- 
shattered  by  the  earthquake  of  anarchy,  unshackled 
by  the  fetters  of  despotism,  and  unsullied  by  the 
foulness  of  license,  she  may  yet  stand  forth,  even  in 
her  youth,  the  fair  type  of  that  perfect  liberty  which 
knows  how  to  restrain  the  evil,  without  retarding 
the  good  ;  to  repress  crime,  without  oppressing  inno 
cence  ;  to  cherish  independence,  without  encouraging 
insolence ;  to  guard  reverently  the  ashes  of  the  past, 
while  she  kindles  the  signal  fires  of  the  future ;  and 
while  she  stretches  forth  one  hand  to  give  freedom 
to  the  nations  of  the  earth,  she  may  raise  the  other 
to  swear  fealty  to  herself,  and  to  the  God  of  the 
Nations ! 


RETURN  TO  the  circulation  desk  of  any 
University  of  California  Library 

or  to  the 

NORTHERN  REGIONAL  LIBRARY  FACILITY 
Bldg.  400,  Richmond  Field  Station 
University  of  California 
Richmond,  CA  94804-4698 

ALL  BOOKS  MAY  BE  RECALLED  AFTER  7  DAYS 

•  2-month  loans  may  be  renewed  by  calling 
(510)642-6753 

•  1-year  loans  may  be  recharged  by  bringing 
books  to  NRLF 

•  Renewals  and  recharges  may  be  made  4 
days  prior  to  due  date. 

DUE  AS  STAMPED  BELOW 
SENT  ON  ILL 

JUL  30  1999 

U.  C.  BERKELEY 


12,000(11/95) 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 


^^r 


